the golden boy that was swallowed by the sea
We saw the Golden Boy bleed love
onto the sand like rain
While we were injecting colours
into our open veins
And deep beneath the water
The dead black silence crawled
Far away across the ocean
The Golden Boy is beneath the sea
The Golden Boy swallowed by the sea
And love is sometimes violent
And violence has no constraint
And i can see inside you
Yes i can feel what you think
And with this knife of silver
I will release your soul
And throw it out into the ocean
- Swans
I know the origins of my sexual fantasies and it's the worst knowledge in the world. When the golden shower's finished it all comes flooding back...
ReplyDeleteThat's completely off-topic, I know... but almost everything I say is. Except when I answer question... I'm not too bad then... tough that all depends on the question I suppose... X
what are these seeding things that come flooding back..? i'm curious to know now. I thought us junkies were devoid of sexual feeling. Nerveless dolls propped up together, any connection with our bodies severed at the neck. At least thats how it is with me and the boy i shoot up with. The worst part is we're both escorts so we can round up enough cash to score daily. we're fucking ourselves up and fucking everyone else but not fucking each other.haha.
ReplyDeleteSmack's a lonely place huh?
Have you ever read Concrete Island (JGBallard)? it's like that i think. U gotta find your own way off.
thanks for commenting here. your writing is far out. I talk about you more often than is healthy. That's another junkie trait. Clinging onto anything that gets you through for dear life xx
Hiya again Sailor...
ReplyDeleteLets just say that our sexual fantasies often come from the things we've seen in a sexless time, and normally anything we see along those lines, at that age, comes from one of two people. When you've a very certain sexual fetish and that can be related back to very specific events, fulfilling that fantasy can seem like heaven, but laying in it afterwards quite another thing. Not shameful though.. just something you'd prefer cleared away, that's all.
Frigid junkies, yeah... just another thing that the Town Crier screams in my experience. But there is a kinda truth to it when looking at junk relationships, but i don't think it's really that the addicts have lost sexual drive but more that the life has become so much more about other things and love is now holding out and cursing time together whilst waiting for the dealer to arrive... Sex: dividing up the gear. So yeah, it can get pretty lonely in that way, but life can also... a ten year old marriage isn't so much different... trying to love and fuck on on Saver Brand foods is a passion killer also, and when kids are involved... God! Compared to that junk relationships seem healthy. But seriously, it's why I try to stay clear of dope relationships, they fester and become rotten, and a lot of stuff becomes twisted and lost within them. But I've found when having relationships with a non-user (all my relationships except one) that the sexual side of things do not really change so much, that as long as the habit is stable then sex will be as boring or as exciting as it ever or never was. It's just very hard to climax under smack, but that has benefits too and also allows for a different kind of sex than just banging away into nothing for five minutes, or the girl grinding away on top as if she's on some kind of demented rodeo ride.
No, i've never read Concrete Island (or any JG Ballard). I've actually read surprisingly little and read in a really weird way. Very rarely I go after story... I read for poetry and expression and flow and rhythm. These are the things my mind concentrates on when reading other authors. I kinda make an intense fifty page stylistic study and then very often close the book on them. I've got a Ballard book here (Cocaine Nights) but it seems so fantastically shit that its put me off him. I've started and given up on that one at least 25 times. Maybe, just for you, I'll get him out for the 26th and final time....
X
Just a quick one, i'll reply properly tomorrow (today..?)
ReplyDeleteConcrete Island is his most coherant and possibly shortest. Not a huge investment of time but i got a LOT out of it.. it's one of those books that kinda washes over as you're reading it.. the imagery and language are very specific to Ballard's cold, industrial, post-apocalyptic psyche. But for months afterwards i found myself relating back to the story. It's pretty psychotic when you start dwelling on it.
So yeah, give cocaine nights a miss and try this one when you've got a spare evening ;) xx
'Junk sex' is my very belated reply to your comment xx
ReplyDelete