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finchlinden finchlinden

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Finch Linden  Breasted & nippled & warm, warm, warm. San Francisco


“Charts that show the most swiftly lethal places to thrust a dagger are not to be compared with a map of a man’s exposed vitals. The colors were very true. It was strange to look at them and find myself reminded of the steaming entrails of a gutted deer. How can I explain how vulnerable I suddenly felt? All these soft structures, deep red and glistening gray, gleaming liver and intricately coiled intestines, fit so precisely inside my body.”

♫ Now and then I start to cry
not the tears like when I was
when I was like a colored sky coloring
I wish the sun would stand still.
No more forgotten yesterdays-
school days remind me of when I was a boy.
All my life I've been this lonely boy. ♫

♫ And I laugh when you speak
of my pleasure-seeking
among the tall pines,
along the lay-lines.
Here, where the loon keens, 
there, where the moon leans.
There, where I know my violent love lays.
Down in a row of silent dove-gray days. ♫

♫ It's a beautiful town
with the rain coming down
Blackberry, rosemary, 
You've got the run of the place
now that you're running around
and may kindness, 
kindness, kindness abound. ♫

I came across a comment recently left on one of my old nude photos, lambasting me for having the audacity to do “hardcore porn” when I once upon a time vigilantly chastised him and others for sexualizing and objectifying the themes explored in my self portrait work. ⚔️
I bruised his feelings so badly that he held on to it for at least, I don’t know, five years? (What a small, bitter poison to fester inside a person all this time; self reflect, be done). 🕊
It’s been a long time since I paid that close attention, and did I ever! I had an amount of enthusiasm dedicated to policing my own content that to look back upon it, I feel the need to take a nap. 🐦💤
Not to say the passage of so many days has me softened, only putting that energy to different distraction with an apathetic shrug: All things are subjective, especially art, especially sex - “people will masturbate to 30 minutes of video of a motionless hard boiled egg, so.” 🐣
I digress; I won’t apologize for telling people without gentleness that they’ve misinterpreted and/or misused my work, or for previously having a hair-trigger reaction to so. 🦂
In the same breath, seeming as the sex work I did back then warranted no derisive commentary, let me castigate you anew for imposing me with any whorarchical mincing and lowkey ho shaming about the sex work I’ve chosen to do since then. ✨🍑💦
Don’t go visiting my intentions. Don’t ever. 👋🏻🚀
glimpse VI
(still from an upcoming clip)

“Do not agonize about yesterday. Do not borrow tomorrow’s trouble. Let your heart hunt. Rest in the now.” 🐺

♫ And all your left handed kisses
were just prelude to another
prelude to your backhanded love song ♫

“Have you ever stood on a sandy beach when the tide is coming in? Felt the waves come up around your feet and suck the sand from under you? That’s my life now. With every day, I feel I sink deeper into uncertainty.”

“Stop longing. You poison today’s ease, reaching always for tomorrow.”

Sunday in 16 : 9
A glimpse behind the parapets:
Directly after falling off my bicycle like the graceful sack of potatoes I occasionally am, several folks reached out to express the hopes that I’d continue riding.
You cannot deter a masochist with threat of injury.
I was back in the saddle a week later with a sprained ankle, an unsurprising lack of self preservation, and the incredible ever increasing desire for the most perfect beautiful road bike to launch off into the hills at dusk and never come back.

♫ So tell morning, night is lifting
the mauve is moving in. ♫

“I walked wounded through my life in the days that followed, unaware of just how mutilated I was. I was like the man who complains of the itching of his severed leg. The itching distracts from the immense knowledge that one will ever after hobble through life. So the immediate grief at his death concealed the full damage done to me. I was confused, thinking that my pain and my loss were one and the same thing, whereas one was but a symptom of the other.”

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