Art Brut and Me Together And Free February 16, 2013

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• The raw art of Jean
  

  Deutsch: bleisriftzeichnung, art brut (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

   

• Art Brut: Moving to L.A.
• This Art is the only genre that calms my inner angst.
• I feel every system at work some days, not because I desire it, but due to the reserves of anxiety which I never ever depleted. And have yet to do that.
• Psychiatrists provided anxiety (even more) in my life when they explored the pill encyclopedia to randomly put me on one of the pills, and they hoped it “worked”.
• This movement in art was bred by the delinquents and I feel no longer alone in the stagnant waters of mental illness.

Jessica Memo reads “Labor” December 31, 2012

 

I Have a Feeling a Better one than Last Night… November 7, 2012

at the age of 20 (me) I looked so much like this, when I saw the image I saved it. Listen, not pulling a fast one–I’m old now. twenty plus 18 years…the dog never stops chasing my heels.

You know, I’m proud of the junkies from the dirt path up to the junkie with a pretty habit cause I know they voted. No one ever asks about more services (social) for the knocked up crack heads or the pill poppers. Who fights for them? Grossly underpaid and very stressed out social workers who need new office chairs because while the addicts lost their weight and a real live dead skeleton would weigh more, social workers (my mom for one) worked hours and years and decades and now have the asses of, ummm,oh yeah inner tubes I use to swim on as a kid. They deserve compensation and a damn good reason why…yo no se. I voted around 8 pm. Father had brain surgery on Sept. 13, 2012 and he arrived to his house last week, well, he fell and broke his femur  My awesome husband drove me to the hospital in York PA (an hour and one half drive)–my dad is a fukin bionic man. 7o years old,  three brain surgery’s, prostate cancer (in remission) and I think it all started with a hole in his lung (I never said  he was the Marlboro Man). He retired from his job of 20 years just this past August.  Hope everyone is well. Thank you for reading my blog. If any of you know why a vagina’s and ass hole resemble one another–kind of in holes and out holes, really make my day and put your spin on things. Go Prez!!!

I’m a Bubble Ninja-I Pop in Your bad Eye ANd The Other I BLind October 17, 2012

One day I fell in deep like with “to blow” some  bubbles on the thick green patch of lawn at my disposal at school

Unfortunately, for the bubbles and I when I blow them they  burst in my eyes.

The next day I blew bubbles in spite of the whites of my red and irritated eyes.

The following day it rained and a depression shot downwards into my spinal cord as cold and as quick as life matters.

I picked up my bubble paraphernalia; I blow bubbles because I’m on this earth to do exactly that.

Not to blow bubbles asshole, but to repeat the same mistake–with every implication of insanity

Again and over again–if only I shit rainbows or ate razor blades–I blow bubbles with each one to burst in my eye.

Like I said, repeat the same mistake and fuck myself parallel. Got it?

Picture: Gabrielle Rossetti “FlamingJune” So sumptuous.

Abother some day May 5, 2013

Reblogged from jessicawritesnow:

• 

Abother someday(s)

on the same toilet paper roll--

perforated for the illusion

of the possession of a private self.

Abother someday(s)

serial in nature siblings in relations

fuck like horny bunny rabbits, then

some days smell like cum in a bucket.

Abother someday(s)

I eat four Reese’s Cups (or more),

I smoke a pack of cigs (more or less),

and swallow pots of coffee (notinthatorder).

Read more… 83 more words

Sorry it’s Curtains!…In this Economy. February 26, 2013

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Urban Art, Street Art, Art Brut–It’s an Adventure. February 15, 2013

Bubbles are fun asshole. January 4, 2013

The IBrain (Like IPad) A Generation Of Gorgers December 14, 2012

I am thirty eight years old and I sprouted a new head three and one half years ago by denying me what I thought were necessary and pleasureful potions. At last, my pores could breathe and the synapses started to fire correctly. My right arm continues to jerk on its own schedule. It sucks when I’m holding a hot cup of joe or smoking a cigarette. The detriment to this part of my brain that leads my arm to misfire, a tourette of a limb if you will, I may decide to ponder a bit more on the weird and strange occasions when my right arm jerked, and well that spoke for me as far as being a jerk. No coincidences infidels.

As a result of my greed of anything feel good with no discretion skills consulted I lived a life of a revolving rat wheel. I killed the rat. I liked to impersonate the wheel too too much. Mass consumption will lead to mass congestion; worse than every person ever witnessed. Jesus I’m sorry but your kicked out of Our Towne good lord to me you’re another body to squeezed onto the terrain of this globe.

I feel horrible about dastardly conditions becoming universally urgent and unacceptable. So I write elicit a chuckle WTF.

Just pay attention always. Stay tuned in but not. Help in a positive way; your way.

No feministing this shit. Please. My IBrain  I designed for my quirky tastes only.

My Apps all include words and order. I provide the creativity.