When you look at people it’s amazing what actually although arguably they would never admit it goes on inside their head and on their head, which she thinks is their thought processor intel 8.

A clean-living working man. Very nice person with children. Works hard to make a crust. Helps with a charity. Is funny and likable. Very respectable. Doesn’t drive.

when he presents beautiful life models @corkvisioncentre
when he presents beautiful life models @thelongyardstudio

But the sordid mind that is there is beyond comprehension. The desires and capabilities of this hidden aspect is craving exposure and pleasure. It needs the place and the internet has the place ‘texting’ now ‘sexting’.

The hackneyed phrase a picture paints a thousand words is concerned with the visual being very powerful maybe it is, but the power of the word goes far deeper than

Continue reading “Foreplay v Wordplay and John Paul”

How the Muse buds

Everything matters. Like a hose kinking it’s when the water stops that you notice. You become irritated and disgruntled looking back to see the problem plain as day staring at you. Such is life.

As you unfold it you can feel the pulsating pressure build up within the dark tunnel, fluid then suddenly charges through your hands throbbing, searching and seeking an exit.

The fluid gushes out and nothing can stop it. Until the next kink which is usually once you’ve relaxed and it happens again.


It feels good but it’s a dream. A tension filled wet dream from dark matter. So dark in fact that event this massless particle is non-existent. He pushed and probed gasping with deep breath and tiny inhalations of frustration.  The intensity is only surmounted by the audience who look on at the master: they are fully focused and dry lipped.

Like the holder of the gushing hose which feeds off the yearning buds hankering for a wetting, he too becomes ejaculatory with the unkinking and gushing flow. But that happens later and there is no outlet. Fuck it.

How did it come to this?

It was a dance and when you do the thigmotropic and transmundane dance in broad daylight your exposed and she’s confused and the world spins faster, the hose kinks tighter, the flow builds up and suppressing it only creates unintended phantasies which have to see the light of night.

She saw this concomitance when their eyes glazed each other. It was instantaneous. Immediate. A hairs breadth – he was oscillating in the tunnel and didn’t see.

Is it possible to go insane from another?

It’s nice-take me there.

Mr Museish.

Muse affect

It’s hard to imagine or explain the intrinsic affect a muse has on your internal world. It becomes a mass of confusion – exposed- and at the same time subsumed by a mantle of desire and resistance.

It’s agonal and Lazarus coming together.

The breath is excoriated by unannounced whimpers of assent, how to describe this whimper or expelling of tiny gasps, it’s like breathing in and out his spirit, the sound of a crampon digging into the snow.

It never materialises just vaporises throughout the body leaving a simulacra on the inner shell, curling slowly around the organs and resting on the libido, it’s a killing sensation of rapture.

The rapture when the breath peaks is pleasure beyond thought.

And the muse is not even there. If he was it would be death by breath.

Then you let it go.

Unless the muse is a willing and participatory ingredient in the mix-you will lose control-so absolutely overpowering is this fervid entanglement- it will create actions the antithesis of what is considered the norm.

The muse-artist togetherness puts the psyche into a creative, sexually releasing energy putting demands on both of them-the key is resisting.

Resistance the hindrance to the flow of charge.

Hence creativity. It’s hard.

Why does everything pleasurable involve resistance.

Why does compliance bring out ‘Fake Plastic Trees'(radiohead).

How and why did the muse enter the infundibular holy grail of this shit holding temple?

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