THIS IS LIKE A SLAP IN THE FACE

Press Play.

I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY

IN MY WHOLE LIFE.

I’VE BEEN DENYING THIS SO LONG….

I’M SURE IT’S RIGHT.

FINALLY…THIS IS WORKING…FINALLY…THIS IS LIFE.

FINALLY…THIS IS WORKING…FINALLY…THIS IS LIFE.

AND THEN COMES THE CRACK…

AND EVERYTHING FALLS APART.

AND THEN COMES THE PULL….

AND SHE DIES.

AND THEN COMES THE CRACK….

AND EVERYTHING COMES APART.

THEN COMES THE NIGHT

AND SHE DIES.

I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THIS…THIS IS SOMETHING I’VE DONE…

I’VE NEVER BEEN SO BROKEN….

I’VE NEVER HURT SO MUCH.

THIS IS LIKE

A SLAP IN THE FACE.

THIS IS LIKE

AN AMPUTATION.

AND THEN COMES THE CRACK….

The Long Way Home

Press Play.

Well I stumbled in the darkness, lost and alone

Though I said I’d go before us…

And show the way back home….

Is there a light up ahead? I can’t hold on very long….

Forgive me, pretty baby, but I always take the long way home.

Money’s just something you throw off the back of a train.

Got a head full of lightnin’, a hat full of rain

And I know that I said…I’d never do it again….

I’m sorry, pretty baby….

But I always take the long way home.

I put food on the table, and a roof overhead

But I’d trade it all tomorrow, for the highway instead.

Watch your back and pass your time….

Your love’s the only thing I’ve ever known.

One thing for sure, pretty baby….I always take the long way home.

You know I love you baby…

More than the whole wide world. You were my woman, you know you were my home.

Let’s go out past the party lights…where we can finally be alone.

Come with me…

And we can take the long way home.

 

Milez Iz Ded

So I’m fucking off….

Don’t miss me.

Don’t.

So you gave it your all….

It still fell apart.

Don’t cry.

Don’t.

It won’t change a thing

To want it any other way.

Don’t.

It won’t change a thing

To want it any other way.

______________

(No, I’m not plotting my death.)

Wordsmithery: Milez Iz Ded – Afghan Whigs & Any Other Way – Captains Intangible

Skins, dress, blood, contacts, photofuckery, photoshoppery, and  poses by Munchflower Zaius

except the last one which is by Luth Brodie.

Chair was made by Zarabella Ming.

Lighted room of badassedness by Ivey Deschanel.

Boots of win by Zero Number

Hair by Deviant Kitties

WRONG.

Zarabella Ming

Roblem Hogarth

Ivey Deschanel

Apatia Hammerer

Allegory Malaprop

Radio Signals

Recidivist Sideways

Hyasynth Tiramisu

Horrid Twine

Jonny Dusk

Juana Manuel

Nebulosus Severine

Anathema Xeltentat

Noir Maelstrom

Achariya Maktoum

Putrid Gloom

Tomoyuki Batra

Kala Bijoux

Grady Echegaray

Wrong.

***********************

And these children that you spit on, as they try to change their worlds….

Thank you to each and every one of you.

I don’t try to explain art, let alone mine. Someone once told me that if you tell people what it means to you, that’s all they’ll ever see when they look at it. Truth. It destroys what could have been seen, whatever they might have gotten out of it. That said, i’m not going to explain this one either, suffice to say that if you’re seeing anything other than us…

you’re wrong.

❤ Munch.

Talk Show Host

I want to…

I want to be someone else or I’ll explode.

Floating upon this surface for the birds….

The birds…

The birds.

You want me?

Fucking well come and find me.

I’ll be waiting….

With a gun and a pack of sandwiches…

And nothing.

Nothing.

You want me?

Well come on and break the door down.

You want me?

Fucking come on and break the door down.

I’m ready…

I’m ready…

I’m ready.

******************************

Lyrics are from Talk Show Host by Radiohead

The Mad Reverend’s skin, eyes, and armbands are all by Munchflower Zaius.

Everything else I have no idea where he got it so he can add details when he wakes up.

Poses by 5ith Order and Munchflower Zaius

Breach Python Gun by Eata Kitty

Cargo crates by Arcadia Asylum

Amen.

You’re mothers’ child
But night lays you down…

Hair aflame, wild look in your eyes….
Naked belly to the ground

A forest fire
Nibbles at your veins

Crawls up your arm
Runs away with your mind

And burns dry thoughts like leaves.

Eyes stare up
But something’s in the way

In the Bible… only Angels have wings…

And the rest must wait to be saved.

A dry tongue
Screams at the sky…
But the wind just breathes words in
As a strange bird tries to fly.

Pieces of us die everyday
As though our flesh were hell
Such injustice, as children we are told
That from God we fell.

Where are my angels?
Where’s my golden one?
Where’s my hope
Now that my heroes have gone?

Some are being beaten
Some are being born.

And some

can’t

tell

the difference anymore.

Amen.

Amen.

( Hallelujah…
Hallelujah……. )

************

Gargoyles, photoshoppery, photofuckery, and general malaise brought to you by Munchflower Zaius

Poses by Munchflower Zaius

5ith order

Zarabella Ming and

Pilgrim Miles

Shot entirely in Nomine which was made by Putrid Gloom and Horrid Twine

Lyrics: Amen – Jewel ( sue me. )

Wreath of Barbs

Holy burning hand of wrath
piercing forever through the heart

and this flaming orbit of shame
ravages and splits the path

grinding, binding, taking away
needles above the prey
wreath of barbs

the injection of religion
has a comalike effect

and the bodies lay in decay
dreaming of a greener day

open eyes reading nothing
a sky harsh blue grins black

a sky harsh blue grins black

and I bleed and bleed in this wreath of barbs…

and I run and run but I don’t get far….

I don’t get far, don’t get far…

grinding…

( the injection of religion
has a comalike effect )

binding…

(and I bleed and I bleed and I bleed…)

Wreath of Barbs.

– – –

Skin, eyes, syringe necklace, rose vines, wreath of barbs, and photofuckery by Munchflower Zaius.

Shot on location in the Nomine churchyard.

Poses by Munchflower Zaius and Pilgrim Miles and possibly someone else. I can’t remember.

Lyrics: Wreath of Barbs – Wumpscut

Paper Thin Things

Weightless falls
( in time…I will….)
Honeysuckle
( collect the world )
Strangers – strange this
( the eggs )
Lights from pages
( and wings…)
Paper thin thing

Protected by the naked eye
( had you wings…)
Pearly sunrise
( I give my children…)

Nearly worn
( he’s a wonder )
Kneeling like a supplicant
( he’s a little black winged boy )

Darkened skin
( oh my daughters…)
Afraid to see
( he’ll fill you with joy )

Radiate
( had you wings )
Open lips
( the eggs )
Keep smiling for me
( I give my children )
Darkened skin

Afraid to see
( I give you…)
Radiate
( the wings of…)
Open lips
( in time…)

Keep smiling for me.
( I will collect the world )

Weightless cool
( in time )
Honeysuckle
( I will collect the world )
Fair skin – freckles
( the hearts )

Uncut teeth
( and limbs )
Tranquil eyes
( of butterflies )

Bite my lips – bite my lips
( had you wings…)
Under your feet

Butterflies….

oh father… I offer…

Butterflies….

( for Ven. ❤ )

– – – – –

Lyrics by Toad the Wet Sprocket and Massive Attack.

Photobuggery and photoshoppery by Munchflower Zaius

Hair – marlie by KIN

Shirt and pants and eyes  NOMINE

Poses by PILGRIMAGE and Munch.

Oh, Cynda Moore…

I’m coming into your town.
Night is falling to the ground,
but I can still see where you loved
yourself before he tore it all down.
April 12th, with nobody else around;
you were outside the house
(where’s your mother?)
when he put you in the car,
when he took you down the road….

And I can still see
where it was open,
the door he slammed closed.
(It was open)
the door he slammed closed.
It was open,

long ago.

But don’t lose me now,
don’t lose me now.
Though I know that I’m not useful anyhow,
just let me stick around
while I tell you, like before,
you should say his name
the way that he said yours.
But you don’t want
to say his name anymore.
Oh, Cynda Moore.

Baby daughter on the road….
wrapped up warm in daddy’s coat.
And I can still see
the cigarette’s heat….

I can’t believe all that you’re telling me

words are cutting like the smoke
through your teeth
as you are telling me

forget it.

But if I could tear his throat…
and spill his blood between my jaws,
and erase his name out for good,
don’t you know that I would?
Don’t you realize that I wouldn’t pause
that I would cut him down with my claws
if I could have somehow never let that happen?

Or I’d call some black midnight,
fuck up his new life where they don’t know what he did,
tell his brand-new wife and his second kid.
Though I tell you, like before,

you should wreck his life
the way that he wrecked yours,

but you want no part of his life anymore.

Oh… Cynda Moore…

please don’t lose me now,
let me help you out…
Though I know
that I can’t help you
anyhow.

but when I watch you

I’m proud.

oh and I told you twice before
that you should wreck his life
the way that he wrecked yours,
but you want no part of his life anymore.

oh Cynda Moore.

And it’ll never be the way it was before,
but I wish that
you would let me through that door.

Let me through that door.

Oh… Cynda Moore…

– – – – –

Lyrics: Black by Okkervil River

Cynda Moore is wearing

Sophie hair in midnight by Calico Creations

Brood Jacket by Refuge

Sister Mary Jane’s lingerie and rosary by INDI

Dead eyes, and RAW skin by Nomine

Animations by Pilgrimage and Naughty Neko

Sugar skull, parintachin, deathmask, widow and deathy skins customized by Munchflower Zaius.

Fisherman’s Blues

Well I’m on the Downeaster “Alexa”
And I’m cruising through Block Island Sound
I have charted a course to the Vineyard
But tonight I am Nantucket bound…

We took on diesel back in Montauk yesterday.
And left this morning from the bell in Gardiner’s Bay.
Like all the locals here, I’ve had to sell my home.
Too proud to leave I worked my fingers to the bone…

So I could own my Downeaster “Alexa”.
And I go where the ocean is deep
There are giants out there in the canyons!
And a good captain can’t fall asleep.

I’ve got bills to pay and children who need clothes
I know there’s fish out there, but where – God only knows.
They say these waters aren’t what they used to be
But I’ve got people back on land who count on me.

So if you see my Downeaster “Alexa”…
And if you work with the rod and the reel
Tell my wife I am trawling Atlantis
And I still have my hands on the wheel.

Now I drive my Downeaster “Alexa”
More and more miles from shore every year
Since they tell me I can’t sell no stripers
And there’s no luck in swordfishing here.

I was a bayman like my father was before
Can’t make a living as a bayman anymore
There ain’t much future for a man who works the sea…

But there ain’t no island left for islanders like me.

– – – – –

The Downeaster Alexa by Billy Joel and I’m sure he retains all rights forthwith.

Munchflower is wearing:

Sexy hair in black – Shop Seu

Dark Bella Morte Belt by Kyoot Army

Street Sweeper Arm Guard by Virus Company

Dirty ripped bloody pants by PARADISIS

Nomine stained contacts forest – Nomine

Laced boots by Kaeli Candour

Nomine tees in gray longsleeve and black tank by Nomine

Beanie by Franta Burt

“Downeaster Alexa” rowboat by RyanIJ Writer