Journal

Dream 2:15am 19.02.18

I just Had a dream. Loud. Chaotic. I can’t stress just how loud it was. People running everywhere. Madness. Shock. Despair and fragility all around and yet I was calm single minded to the point that I put my self in harm’s way for nothing. No not for nothing. For a glimpse. To see with my own eyes the floating heads with blank expressions, floating down corridors away from the great reveal.

ZIG (UN)CUT vLOG

vLog 15+ The Day I Started talking to myself in the woods.
Why can’t we agree to disagree rather shouting each other down? What happened to discourse? What happened to debate? Had some issues with the sound which I fixed as best as I could in audacity. At least now you can hear me.

Journal

Originally from 30.04.15 – Sketches of an idea I have you know I am a very attractive man. Parhaps a little on the fugly side now but back in the day. Why are you looking at me like that? The gays love me. Its true. They’ve invited me on a number of occasions to join their club but I had to decline. Too much hugging…and Abba…I hate Abba. Besides with me there can only ever be one cock in the room -and []

Journal

Overheard. Probably incorrectly. “She was fat and cheap and not in a good way. She wore Bozo the clown make up upon the grumpy face of a bi-polar flesh monkey.” “Like she had done her face in a series of increasingly more distorted carnie hall mirrors with a poundland Mr Man paint brush and a blunt sharpie for eyebrows whilst pissed on tennents and half a gram of wiz”. “Orange was her favourite colour judging by the colour of her skin”