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naturesapphic · 7 months

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“I need love”

Hanna marin x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is on her period, fluff

“Im dying!” You groan into Hanna’s pillow as she watches you from across the room reading one of her many magazines. “Baby hush, you aren’t dying”. She says as she rolls her eyes. You pout “I am too! It feels like someone is doing arts and crafts in my uterus. Cutting up all of my insides and twisting them.” You say dramatically.

Hanna made a disgusted face “okay I did NOT need that visual in my head.” She said and shook her head to not think about it. You rolled around in her bed, trying to get comfortable but you couldn’t. Your body was kicking your ass and your cramps too. No matter how much you turned or turned over, you just couldn’t get comfortable and all you wanted was your girlfriend to give you snuggles and attention.

“Hanna bananaaaaaaaaa” you dragged out on purpose to get her attention. She looked up from her magazine and looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “I need love” you simply stated at her. She smiled at you and got off her ass and headed towards you. You made grabby hands towards her and she instantly pulled you into her arms.

You smiled and immediately snuggled into her, almost purring to which Hanna giggled at. She ran her fingers through your hair and leaned down every now and then to give you kisses. A few moments later and you were starting to get bored. “Hannnnnnnnn…I’m bored” you complained to her and she rolled her eyes jokingly and gently thumped you on your forehead. “Why are you complaining so much today?” She said as she looked down at you with her piercing blue eyes.

“Because I’m bleeding and in severe pain! I have the right to complain! And at least I don’t complain everyday like you do….” You mumbled at the end but Hanna heard you and gasped in defense. “Do not!” She defended herself. “Do to!” You stated back at her which was a mistake because she started tickling you.

“Ahhh hanna! S-stop!” You giggled out and she kept tickling you until she saw tears in your eyes and then she stopped and you caught your breath. “Rude…” you pouted up at her and she smiled as she leans down to give you a slow and long kiss. You kiss back and run your fingers through her blond hair and gently push her head down to deepen the kiss.

A few moments later Hanna pulled away causing you to pout. “Nuuuu come backkkk. I want your lipsssss.” You whined out again. “Babe if I kept kissing you I would have passed out from lack of oxygen.” She stated. “And?” You said dramatically with a serious face. “Babe what the fuck! Do you want me to die?!” She yelled. “Nope. But I wanna keep kissing youuuu.” You simply said to which Hanna rolled her eyes at you yet again.

“Hannaaaaaaa. Im boreddddd.” You said while throwing your hands up in the air. Hanna huffed “go read some of my magazines then.” She suggested. “That will not help me feel better and be less bored.”you grumpily said. “It helps me!” She gasped. “Im happy for you.” You commented and she gently punched you in your shoulder. “ABUSE! Im telling mrs. Hastings!” You snarled and she started laughing.

“You wouldn’t do that baby. You love me too much. Plus I’ll kill you.” She said seriously at the end and you giggled. “Thats true. I would turn you in for abuse.” You smiled and she rolled her eyes as she smiled at you lovingly. “Thank you for being here with me Han. I love you. You always make me feel better.” You said while looking at her with so much adoration and love. She returned the look “of course y/n/n, I’ll always be here for you and I love you so much more.” Hanna said with a big smile plastered on her face and you smiled back. Hanna will always be there for you, especially when you are on your period and need constant attention 24/7.

A/n: I randomly came up with this since I’m on my period and I would definitely need attention 24/7 like @tvgirllloverz cmon I need you 🙄

But thank you for reading! And if you have any Hanna requests just let me know and of course any other requests you have for the other characters I write for :) remember to stay hydrated and to rest. I love y’all. Have a good day!

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thericons · 5 months

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icons ashley benson

•like or reblog if you save

#girls icons #icons girls #ashley benson #ashley benson icon #ashley benson icons #icons ashley benson #ashley benzo

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sempsds · 2 years

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credit @selenabused

like this post if you save

#ashley benson #ashley benson icons #icons ashley benson #ash benzo #ash benzo icons #icons ash benzo #icons #nic

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impider · 9 months

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REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE . / for ezra .

ICON by jaden ━━ ❝ i am not a mayan, i'm a menace (menace) / it's wild, you can lie like a professor / i don't got the time to put you on the stretcher (stretcher) / i am here and i'm still flexing (flexing) / i am just an icon living / start a record label, msfts just did it, whoa / i'm high snob, cover five minutes, whoa / we are so hot in the business (woo) . ❞

DNA by kendrick lamar ━━ ❝ i got power, poison, pain and joy inside my dna / i got hustle though, ambition, flow inside my dna / i was born like this, since one like this, immaculate conception / i transform like this, perform like this, was yeshua new weapon . i don't contemplate, i meditate, then off your fucking head . ❞

FED UP by ghostemane ━━ ❝ wind up in the wrong mindset / might've wound up with the wrong set of friends / on a benzo bender withdrawal, never go back, no / say a prayer to someone who cares / ain't nobody listenin', or they left you on read again / never again will i put my faith in a religion / no god or satan gonna make me understand i'm dealt a bad hand . ❞

KNIFE TALK by drake , 21 savage , project pat ━━ ❝ smith & wesson, i'm 4L gang reppin' / we done baptized more niggas than a damn reverend (yeah) / kappa alpha, me and my gang, we do all the steppin' / who you checkin'? this fn shoot east to west end (gang) . ❞

D-DAY by agust d ━━ ❝ in a world full of hate / hatе is even more unnеcessary (okay) / lotus flowers bloom brilliantly even in mud / a feeling of inferiority, self-loathing compared to others / aim your gun at these things starting today (yeah, yeah, yeah) . what are you? break the limits, man . ❞

WORST BEHAVIOR by drake ━━ ❝ fuck you bitch, i'm more than high / my momma probably hear that and be mortified / this ain't the son you raised who used to take the acura / 5 a.m. then go and shoot degrassi up on morningside / for all the stuntin', i'll forever be immortalized / yeah, back and forth across the border line / hate to leave the city, but i've got to do the overtime . ❞

& 6 QUOTES THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

❝ ❛ dear god , ❜ she prayed , ❛ let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. ❜ ❞ ━━ betty smith , a tree grows in brooklyn

❝ i am nothing special ; just a common man with common thoughts , and i've led a common life . there are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten . but in one respect i have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived : i've loved another with all my heart and soul ; and to me , this has always been enough . ❞ ━━ nicholas sparks , the notebook

❝ do you think there's a difference ? between belonging with and belonging to ? ❞ ━━ jenny han , to all the boys i've loved before

❝ have you ever hoped for something ? and held out for it against all the odds ? until everything you did was ridiculous ? ❞ ━━ ali shaw , the girl with glass feet

❝ do not despise your own place and hour . every place is under the stars , every place is the center of the world . ❞ ━━ john burroughs , studies in nature and literature

❝ i believe in love . i believe in hard times and love winning . i believe marriage is hard . i believe people make mistakes . i believe people can want two things at once . i believe people are selfish and generous at the same time . i believe very few people want to hurt others . i believe that you can be surprised by life. i believe in happy endings . ❞ ━━ isabel gillies, happens every day : an all - too - true story

tagged by : @spidersiren ( HELLO MY BABY HELLO MY HONEY ) tagging : @novaragno , @arachstar , @arachnidiots , @chimugukuru , @imsobrooklyn + highly encourage anyone else !

#✧⠀⠀━━ ARCHIVED UNDER⠀⠀/⠀⠀EZRA KANG⠀⠀.#✧⠀⠀━━ ARCHIVED UNDER⠀⠀/⠀⠀EZRA KANG⠀⠀:⠀⠀INTROSPECTION⠀⠀.#✧⠀⠀━━ ARCHIVED UNDER⠀⠀/⠀⠀DASH GAMES⠀⠀.#i put so much time into this #someone please read that last quote and join hands with me #it's as ezracore as it gets #long post tw

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fearsomeandwretched · 7 months

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Meredith finding out her nemesis Jen was arrested and charged with multiple felonies and getting naked popping a few benzos and running herself a bubble bath was sooo iconic. Is not talked about enough

#everyone else is legit sobbing and Meredith is having a ball #Rhoslc tag

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iviarellereads · 10 months

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Nona the Ninth, John 5:18(1)

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one!)

(No icon) In which someone starts to really use his powers.

IN THE DREAM, night had fallen, or what she assumed was night. They were lying atop the hill they had climbed and he was pointing out all the constellations that they would be able to see if it weren’t for the thick green cloud and the softly falling flakes of ash. They were lying head-to-head, their eyes aimed at the right part of the sky to see, or in this case not see, the Southern Cross. The stars were sweet and familiar, but she did not know their names, though they seemed to be at the tip of her tongue. She asked him why it was called the Southern Cross. He said that was just one name for it, but the stars were in a cruciform pattern and it was only visible from the southern hemisphere. He said when he was little he’d been taught it was the anchor of a ship.(2) He still preferred that, he said. Liked the idea that the Milky Way was pinned down and couldn’t go anywhere. Said when he was a kid he hated change, any change at all. She had quite liked change—mostly. But he did not want to dwell on that. So she asked him about the fingers trick, and he was happier to talk about why it had upset everyone so much.

After everyone in the gang has had a chance to see him do it, they needed to come to terms with it. C- and G-, despite being raised religious, took it better than anyone. M- was an atheist since age 12, even though her best friend was a nun. A- giving her "a benzo and a shot of whiskey" helped too, John thinks.

Still, they all wanted to believe in him. They all wanted a miracle. P- worried about a zombie apocalypse, but Ulysses and Titania weren't zombies, they were fully controlled by John's commands and will.

He and she sit in the fallout ash for a bit.

After a moment, he said: I knew it was fine. I knew I’d touched something, come away with something, that could be used for good. Could be used to fix everything, used for you.(3) I only had to figure out how. There was so much to figure out. But I’d got a dream team on tap, eh?

Then they started testing the limits. What he can and can't do, how much he can control them, from what distance. They even dug up a graveyard, to P-'s annoyance at having to cover it up, and he could "raise" the bodies of the long-dead as well.

At that point, they knew the biggest risk was getting caught, getting institutionalized, or weaponized by more stakeholders. Maybe they'd seen too many movies.(4)

He said, So we figured that what we had to do was make as big a noise as humanly possible, turn to the public. Find out if anyone else was like me, if there was someone out there who could do the same thing. And there was a way we could do just that. It was a different time back then. I didn’t want to do it. It felt too—kill switch, too awful to contemplate. Too grisly. Too shitty. But it was the only trick we had up our sleeves. He sighed and said, “We had the internet. We decided to stream.” She said, “What is this internet?” And he said, “See, I did make a utopia.”(5)

=====

(1) "Hereupon therefore the Jews sought the more to kill him, because he did not only break the sabbath but also said God was his Father, making himself equal to God." Well, that certainly seems relevant, are we four for four? Of course we are. I don't love the layer of "the Jews sought the more to kill him" because that sort of thing has been long, long used to justify antisemitism, but some people are probably getting more upset at John for not complying and giving up, considering how hard they worked to shut him down. Meanwhile letterizing brings us to THETOWER. Well, we certainly saw many towers at Canaan House, but this feels more specific somehow. THE tower, or perhaps The Tower, not just any old tower. (2) It's true! The constellation the North knows mainly as the Southern Cross, or Crux, is known in Maori culture as the anchor on the Milky Way's boat. (3) That sneaky "you" again. (4) How many of us haven't made wild plans for things like nuclear attacks or zombie apocalypses because we've seen too much fiction to not think about it on some level? Even though the risks are so low for most of the world. (5) The joke almost as old as the internet, that the internet is hell and cursed and we'd be better off without it. We wouldn't, mind, but I still laughed.

#the locked tomb #tlt #nona the ninth #ntn #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #emperor john gaius #harrowhark nonagesimus

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gaia-prime · 1 year

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Radfem/💇‍♀️: Are you a radfem, just radfem-adjacent, or just gender critical?

radical feminism is the form of feminism to actually aims to improve to material reality of women. choice-y lib-y pomo-y “feminism” is just decorating the cage, radical feminism is getting out of it 🐅

Peak/🌄: What was the first thing that peaked you, and when did you peak (not just specifically “peak trans,” but anything “peak patriarchy”)?

peak trans was the rape rhetoric towards lesbians

Everest/🏔️: What has been your worst subsequent peak?

when nobody who supported the gender movement was pushing back against the rape rhetoric towards lesbians.

one time i did see someone say “don’t say that” not because it was, you know, rape, but because it’s quote: “bad optics”

Separate/🚷: Are you a female separatist or a lesbian separatist, and to what extent?

GNC/🥾: Are you GNC, and to what extent?

no one would describe me as gnc, and i’ve got shiny long hair and pretty privilege (lol) to thank for that. i mostly only leave the house for work (in scrubs) or or the pottery studio (in a tshirt and overalls or sweatpants.) but when i’m wearing something in my style it’s usually pretty feminine, albeit practical. i refuse to wear anything debilitating or uncomfortable. i straight up lose respect for anyone who has those long false nails 🤮

Orientation/🩲: Are you a lesbian, bisexual, or heterosexual?

lesbian 🌈 lucky me ☺️

Bi/🔺: If you’re bisexual, are you a febfem?

Hetero/👫: If you’re heterosexual, are you choosing to be celibate?

Picrew/👤: No more identifying information, make a picrew icon of yourself that doesn’t look like you.

what about some of my photomode snaps from horizon zero dawn and forbidden west?

Leg/🦵: Where does your leg hair start getting darker (above the knee, mid thigh, dark from the moment hip ends and thigh begins)?

at my knees

Body/🔍: Do you have more/darker body hair on your left side, right side, or about equal on both sides?

equal i think?

Carnivora/🦊: Are you more of a cat person or a dog person?

I’m bipetsual.also i think hating dogs or hating cats is embarrassing and demonstrates poor character and you shouldn’t admit that in public…

Baby/👶: How do you feel about the baby plane (funny answers only)?

i’m zooted out on benzos seroquel and complimentary drinks when i’m flying so i am OUT snork mimimimimi on planes…

Natal/🤰: Pronatalism, antinatalism, or natalism neutral?

natalism agnostic i guess? natalism skeptic? i cannot relate to wanting to give birth,but i get that not every woman desires the same thing. and i have no interest in denying women the opportunities and resources to be mothers. however, i believe in the importance of empowering women worldwide with access to education autonomy over their reproductive health. when women are empowered, birth rates go down. this is a good thing. woman choosing when to be mothers , or not, is a good thing. i believe in humanity (despite everything) and would like to see us continue to survive as a species. however unending population growth only serves a few very powerful people because capitalism demands endless growth. it’s not a sustainable future and it’s not the future women want.

-Fem/💻: Do you identify as a member of any of the -fem titles (factfem, nicefem, rudefem, etc)?

not really. however the only posts and comments i have made that seem to get any attention are snarky comments and jokes, so i guess i come off as a rudefem more than anything else. which is not how i conceptualize myself and not exactly the energy i want to put out there to lesbians and gnc people who go along with gender nonsense. or especially to ones that are really struggling, feel pressured, or have existing trauma or mental illness exacerbated by gender propaganda. above all else i just want lesbians and gnc people and kids to be safe and healthy. i just don’t know if there’s much i, using a tumblr blog, can do about that.

Animal/🦕: If you had to pick an animal to represent your blog, what would it be (catfems, you don’t have to answer cat)?

a wolf 🐺 because i want my mate . AwoooOooo

Labrys/🪓: If you’re a lesbian, how do you feel about the labrys (both the flag and the icon)?

uhhhhmm..

Interest/😍: If you weren’t a radblr user, what would your blog be about?

i wouldn’t be me if i weren’t a feminist and weren’t true to myself and my interests. if you can’t be a feminist in a low stakes forum like tumblr, where Can you be a feminist?

Gender/💩: Here’s the link to get a random Wikipedia page. You now have a neogender based off of the page that was pulled up–what is it?

Man on the Moon (soundtrack) oh?

Feminist/🦸‍♀️: Are there any particular feminists or feminist groups you look up to?

i look up to every lesbian who is being true to herself and not taking male bullshit

Woman/🧑: For $0, name a woman.

Azealia Banks

Man/🧔: If you could kill one man (excluding politicians, billionaires, and those responsible for world tragedies), who would it be?

kAm

#ask meme #beatifiq asked me to answer all of them

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feral-creep · 2 years

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lana del rey will always be iconic to me

she inspired a whole generation of zoomer teenage girls to warble along in their suburban bedrooms to lyrics about benzo dependency and the ennui of bel air — with the all of the earned despair of former sinatra paramours and aging showgirls who lost their looks to decades of martinis and sorrow

#lana del rey #thoughts

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lolitalempicka · 1 year

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i was thinking about 2012 and imo these are the 2 movies that really shaped a whole era. something about the dark suburbia aes, the absurdism, the hedonistic but like distinctly creepy vibesss. spring breakers being the most visually interesting one and project x the most rawr idgaf one. Also the soundtracks are SO iconic... i dont even remember project x plot but Pursuit of happiness awakes something in me that is like pure nostalgia + dopamine and suddenly im into uppers

Harmony korine is not that talented as an artist but he IS a sociologist of sleaze.

watch to understand the benzo epidemic and also being silly

#upload

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naturesapphic · 7 months

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Scared

Hanna marin x fem!reader

Warnings: cursing, mature themes, sexual innuendos

“Hey Han, you into sharing everything with your BFF? Even your GF? - A”

Hanna looked down at her phone in horror as she read the text message. Tears flooded her eyes and she knew she had to do something that she didn’t want to do. She has to break up with you. It’s for your own good, she can’t lose you or worse, have you killed.

No matter how much it will kill her inside, she has to let you go. You mean too much to her and the thought of anything bad happening to her makes her sick and filled with rage. She shakily grabbed her car keys and drove to your house, regretting what she’s about to put you through.

You heard two hard knocks on the door and grabbed one of your favorite stuffed animals and slowly walked to the door. You slowly opened the door while your hand was held up with your stuffed animal in hand, ready to attack. You screeched as someone came in but it went away when you saw your blonde headed girlfriend standing there with her leather jacket on with a lacy black long sleeved top. “God Hanna you fucking scared me!” You said breathlessly as you held your stuffed animal to your chest, pouting at her.

Hanna chuckled and shakes her head “what were you gonna do anyway babe…kill me with your stuffed animal?” She teases you as you glared at her in annoyance. “N-no! But I would have done something…like…like punch you!” Hanna raises her eyebrow at her in disbelief. “Baby…you wouldn’t hurt a fly…you say sorry to me when you accidentally hurt me or accidentally bump into me and sometimes you start crying.” She says at she walks further in your house. You huffed and buried your face in your stuffie.

“Why are you here anyway Han? Not that I don’t want you here but you usually text me first or you come earlier in the day…” you said, worry laced in your voice. Hanna remembered why she was here and her whole mood changes and her eyes go teary and her face goes completely dead. You walk up to her and gently cup her face to which she let a few tears leave from her eyes. You gently wiped them away from her face with your thumb and she gave you a small smile in return as she nuzzles her face in your hand.

She pulls her face away from you hands and you frowned at her action. “We have to break up..” she says quietly. You felt your heart breaking and felt like you couldn’t breathe properly. You let your hands fall to your sides and you start trying to take deep breaths which made it worse.

“Baby?… babygirl..hey…hey..breathe with me angel..” she softly said to you as she had you sit on the floor and she sat in front of you. She gently took your hand and put it on her chest where her heart is, then she took her hand and put it on your chest. You watched how she breathed and followed her every step of the way.

When you finally could breath better you finally said something. “Is this because of A? What did they threaten you with now?” You questioned her quietly. She sighed and showed you her phone with the message and you frowned more. “I can’t have you hurt again…A has hurt you a lot and they have hurt me a lot…being with me is so dangerous y/n…I have to let you go.” She said with her voice cracking as she tries not to cry.

“No!” You exclaimed as you looked deeply in her eyes. “No? Y/n…we can’t be together anymore…I can’t lose you…even if I have to lose you in this way…I can’t have you be killed.” Hanna says sternly but you weren’t having it. “I said no! Don’t you understand that I don’t care? That we have been together since high-school? We have been through so much together! You are my person Hanna…we can get through this. I can take some self defense classes Hanna! And learn how to fire a gun!”. You exclaimed at her while you look into her eyes with determination.

“Y/n…you don’t understand. This A is worse than Mona combined. She’s more ruthless and has no mercy for us. Please just let me go…”. She said as she took steps back from me. “Please Hanna please…can’t we talk more about this?” You said pleading her. She sighed annoyingly and walked to your door “I can’t do this anymore.” She said opening the door.

“NO!” You yelled and you ran in front of her and shut the door so she couldn’t get out. “Hanna Marin I love you so fucking much and I’m not letting you go. Ever. You are stuck with me. I will go to self defense classes and protect myself and more importantly you, even if I am short! Because just now I just try to kill you with my stuffed animal…” you said as you stand in front of her, not letting her go anywhere.

Hanna glared at you and pushed you aside to get out but you stood back in front of her, blocking her again. “You aren’t leaving until we fix this and talk about it more. I’m not loosing my Hanna banana.” You said with big tears in your eyes and you leaned up and kissed her fiercely. Hanna stood there in shock, but when she finally realized what was happening she kissed you back just as hard and with more passion.

Hanna picked you up by your thighs and your legs were secured around her waist. Your hands were in her golden locks as her hands went from your thighs to your ass. She carried you upstairs and kicked open your door hard since you were in your house alone and quite frankly Hanna didn’t give two fucks.

Hanna threw you on your bed and you looked at her with such intense emotion and lust that she started to tear up. “Baby…I-I’m sorry…I just can’t have you killed or get hurt in any way. You are the person I love. Only you. You are my person and I just want you in my life.” Han confessed as she was stripping her clothes, revealing her beautiful nude body. Even though you were completely star struck at seeing her beauty, Hanna was confessing to you and you were all ears.

“I understand Han…but please…p-please don’t do that again.” You said as you started crying and Hanna hovered over your body and wiped away your tears with her gentle fingers. “I only tried to because I’m so scared…I can’t lose you…” Hanna said softly as she’s crying too. “You won’t lose me. We will find a way to protect ourselves. Just you and me Hanna banana.” You said with a smile at the end and Hanna giggled at the nickname that you always called her.

“I love you y/n/n…so fucking much…” Hanna said as she leans down and connects her soft lips with yours. You moan softly as her tongue intrudes your mouth and explores it. You buckle your hips and Hanna notices it and smirks to herself at how she’s making you completely submit to her, just by a kiss.

You tangle your fingers in her hair as she completely rips your pjs off your body and you blush fiercely. Hanna slowly looks at each detail of your body and admires it. You both have had trouble with your body so she completely understands how you feel and she wants you to feel sexy and confident because she sees you as perfect in her eyes.

Both of your naked bodies are intertwined as y’all show each other how much you love one another and you know that this night will be long and special for the both of you.

A/n: my first imagine of hanna! I hope y’all enjoyed and please, if y’all have any request for her/Ashley benson, please send in request. I love y’all! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest!

#hanna marin #hanna marin x fem!reader #hanna marin x reader #ashley benson x reader #ashley benson x fem!reader #ashley benson #ashley benzo #pll imagines #plledit #pll original sin #pll rewatch #pll gifs #pll icons #pll cast #pll girls #plldaily #pll #pretty little liars #pretty little liars imagines

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ifjanetranit · 2 years

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I read a book! I’m in another reading slump. It happens. In these difficult times, I turn to my trusty celebrity autobiographies. Bring on Kenny Loggins’ Still Alright! I enjoyed the stories of Kenny’s early years growing up in the Seattle area. The family moved to Alhambra, CA, and Kenny was only 17 when he wrote “Danny’s Song” after he found out his older brother Danny was going to be a dad. I also enjoyed learning about his early years in Loggins & Messina and how he eventually became the music soundtrack dude. There’a a great story about how he pissed off Eddie Money, because he forgot to give him credit for singing a couple of background vocals on “I’m Alright.” I had to listen to that tune again, and I’ll be darned — that IS Eddie Money. His career slowed down in the 90s. Kenny had to sue Garth Brooks for stealing the melody to one of his tunes (I’d never heard of either song or this lawsuit), and he won. He had a devastating divorce from his kooky second wife that got him hooked on benzos, which required in-patient detox. It was quite a rough patch. Much of book focuses on the background of his songs and albums, and unless you’re a huge Kenny Loggins fan, it’s a bit much. I mean, I dig “Footloose,” but there’s only so much I need to know about “House at Pooh Corner.” He does have a great bit at the end on the yacht rock phenomenon and how it resurrected his career. He maintains that “What a Fool Believes” is the genre’s definitive song. “At fifty I was just old. At sixty, I was somehow cool. By seventy, I was an icon.” I give Still Alright 18 dancing gophers. #ireadabook https://www.instagram.com/p/CioBTfOvQZSI3HkVGdgDihJiC7Aa1z-N1WnJfU0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#ireadabook

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devenhologram · 1 year

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SCOWL

(for Jay S.)

By Deven Hologram

I saw the best minds of my generation, a generation destroyed by media; bloated; irrational - dolled up. Promenading people through the cinema streets at rush hour - looking for reverb. Cookie-cutter hipsters craving capital consideration to the star-making machine of corporate connections.

Who spoiled and fleeting; and eye-lined and spun, sat up snorting in the LED brightness of flat screens flashing on the walls of buildings; contemplating graffiti; hip hop; and blood. Who had tweeted their sins on Facebook under pseudonyms and saw Mohammedan prophets soaring into rooftops illuminated by ash and soot.

Who were ushered through community colleges with dead cold stares envisioning Orwellian confiscations and angry prayers to the end of the world. Who were booted from schools for breaking formalities and public property when publishing fanzines to icons no longer seen - heard singing songs no longer sung - or for shooting their professors and fellows point blank to the heads; and costing cleanup dollars, and an increase to liabilities. Who with windows on iPhones have seen secret places on Mars.

Whose bungalows decked with cards; shaven pristine or bearded and hip; proudly spout genderless menstruation, squared in silence in private rooms; finger-painting pieces of glass, sending the universe surrounding - the intergalactic montage of litter on Titan, while the whole world watches toilets flush cash; kitties; and the coming month’s issue; to spew their orgasm of concentrated corporate lust - “hey that’s my brand”.

Who saw the latest models in pose number blank turn to capture a neighbor’s climax between arguments and movements; conversations. And who then in between morning TV and commercials - the apocalyptic scenes of global pandemics and war, foretold of lesbianism as the solve, while remote arrest by drones devoid of sex, misfired finality on a sextet of street toughs playing dice in the waterhole, looking for pussy and pot. And the camera on the signpost saw his face and so mails the ticket instead to he who wiggled in metal cuffs; as policemen distorted by benzos and tina, cocaine and PTSD of sadistic delusion and happy families - the redundancy of normalcy driving them mad - beats a man for lack of medical care in the hospital and we see him later in the night blocks away near the Chinese restaurant, in a state of Thorazine, lithium, and methadone; with a stab wound in his gut and aching to jump back into it and get filthy.

Who drank Mad Dog and two gallons of Gallo; later the off-putting scum of the gentlemen in the alleys of Hollywood; conceptualizing scenarios of fantastical movies about liberty of body taught not to attend; while it was his cock that drove it there behind dumpsters and in gateways to backdoors and theaters where gay pornography played out in style, and the tag team in the second-floor bathroom was the waiting line to use the toilet; amidst the tweakers and freakers, and high hairdos with the best of products; conjoined in sexual funk.

Who high and electric on Commonwealth Avenue turned left looking for Boylston and ended up coming out somewhere close to Mulholland Drive; then down on Crescent zooming up the Valley, lost in the curve too carsick to vomit, then to Queen Mary’s - where sometimes Kassandra and sometimes - Mark Allen.

Who have passed dark widening streets of absolute emptiness in the center of the giant dark and empty, then back to the center of Fairfax and its golden icon to the time before we found our own selves thrown in the river with the cars and the skulls. Who was present to dispose of the nights spending in dispensaries set up by local merchants; while sign language was used in frank attempts to ensure transactions took place; the smell of hot meats in the streets of the drunken night; and from the times before fear became a way of process, not pain.

Whose steaming sense on the air drew closer while fearing someone was watching and thinking ill of the animal enjoyment and forbidden fruit - the phallic and hot in the middle of the night, and waiting for the sale rack all wrapped up with bacon. Those winter chills from the summers of Brooklyn, over trashcan fires in Downtown under bridges - where crazy talk piles up faster than the shit on the shores washing waves of foamy frothy, and where lights of one’s mind chain to shopping cart trains from grocery stores; missing wheels and full of empty cans; that no-one but no-one would actually eat from; piled high in the last seat of the public bus; riding til the sun comes up (or until they kick it out into Pershing Square - off the side of Broadway and behind the 7/Eleven with the $8 pizzas where we stocked up on ephedrine and stayed up all night in hotels where bodies rot in tubs of water, drained down through our faucet in a macabre puckering; drained down in the night levels above the wilds of the street; in the dreary halls of former brilliance; in the place where they book the hookers).

Who sank in the vinyl nightlife of Canter’s Deli. Inebriated - and knish - and waiting to star fuck in the flatland of rye toast and turkey sandwiches under the glass ceiling brilliant with autumn leaves; watching rockers wrinkle faces upon custom gefilte fish and yellow mustard.

Who talked on speed continuously for almost seventy-five minutes without one breath to tell of the nuance of life on the streets - all the while tapping fingers on the wall between himself and Sunset Blvd. Who tapping fingers on walls of Pasadena and of Silver Lake over the San Fernando Bridge; a lost chance at a million conversations in between the pace of voice to step; to astound at air raid sirens haunting neighborhoods; as markers of former invasion, standing tall above us and waiting to scream. Explosive sick with factoid and anecdotes and antisocialism and assholes; rolling eyeballs and clenched jaws; the scary state programs and the jail time and all the lost chances to learn in institutions of clout, while battling society surrounding and impeding - and enabling - with talk of NYC once and of that nine one one; and of European sweets from out the Mexican crank, and of cartel brokers in the hallways outside the unfurnished rooms with shared bathrooms in the halls and dead bodies getting flushed down the toilets.

Whose wandering until his teeth chipped in the mid-afternoon and who ate cat food and smoked stale cigarettes; found and dried out in the sun after the rains came; waiting in a box on the side of the 101, where waiting for nothing in particular, save a candyman in brown slinging melting plastics and hellos, and hugs, and tending to the moment; while cursing the whole day it all went away.

Who stayed solitary under the lights of the lamp on the corner of Sixth and Central Kohler’s sex den. Exquisite queers - talking of ancient deities and conjuring concepts of time and space, and of other worlds; while getting anally fucked; speaking in tongues upon a naked bottom, the cock sucked searing of one’s brand and kind into the annals of reality - without pitiful explanation or sense of lengthy necessity.

Who yearned once for this and twice for that, but which never came to fruition in the long line at the grocery store down on Third and Vermont; where the only draw was the bank outlet with the attractive Asian males in ties and with fingers, and later with black men and illegal immigrants on the street behind the subway entrance. Down in the tunnel where the train runs daily in the piss-soaked corridors of slippery whatsit and the sweet honey scent of a seriously homeless person. Riding the train in silence, with songs coming in from all angles, and eyes looking fiercely forward - without compassion or sense of unity - sought the gangster piles of spray paint: mountainous upon billboards up and down Venice, where the roller skating guru blessed us twice and the dragon lady herbalist read us once.

Who rode back and forth on bikes once rented; to play real and one day. Upon it we rode free with nothing but the sea to see us. Who then back to the house where Halloween awaited ghoulies and ghosts haunting us - from people we barely knew in the long scope of it. Who craved the very death they brought upon themselves under gin and juniper and backstage passes. Who lingered bright yellow when his time came to leave this plane; and whose parched lips curled back revealing death fangs; and the soured scent of blood, his eyes staring straight and happy even then, to know it was finally over.

Whose parameters were up and down but never side to side in the long lanes of hungry mouths and eyes and sweat-soaked shirts made from the scorched fires of the angel on the corner near a Santeria Store. The chanting of Krishna on the beach, with papier mache and saltpeter and vegan cuisine made to slop - for the ringing of bells delights us; and the smell of incense invokes us - in the parade of color and brightness; and in crowds of the nameless hairless, we danced until we sunburned and came away red and blistered; scorched dizzy for cups of coffee beans and bottles of glitter thrown into the air and caught up in our eyes; seeding tears that slice.

Whose egoist pandering - seating high and mighty - looked down from above and erased concepts that came before with digitized mastery of cloud-making majesty and the want to partake in a thing that has been canonized as better and first. Whose wants of inclusion eradicated the identity of those prior into corrals of tightrope mimicry and substitutionary implementation as the most practical fix to long-known issues, and who no longer accepted disgrace with disclaimers.

Who sought out the former makers of words and verses; to rid themselves of the chains of burden; to stay true to anything but oneself in the dank and funky late-night dives and damp sofas - surrounded in the smoke of opium and marijuana and chocked full of pills - to make the world spin all the faster and to make the sex all the stranger and the music all the more glorious. Age of Aquarius and Nibiru.

Whose Children of Atlantean failures and mistaken courses, whose Three Days of Intercourse to music to beget; be it Woodstock or Lallapaloozan fucking; to the smokey serum of corporate cling - wrapping our naked bodies in plastics - finely woven by hands in other places. Dirt-entrenched beings of little greater worth; save that which accustoms us to our style of consumerist taking. Whose very nature of life is created and maintained by that which practices here with us and in us. Our novelty and our Babylonian prizes swept into seas of swirling phthalates and Roundup for the future to behold as our stamp upon this time-space.

Whose life left lingering leaves little but deceit to destruction - as we usher in our sixth extinction and boycott various brands of vodka; menswear, and celebrities. Whose only voice is that of disdain of the sweeping loss of identity into that which is - and always will be - greater than anyone within it. The terrific chaotic chorus to intelligent life elsewhere; in over one billion years from now.

el fin

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