..:: binaries ,. WHO ARE WE ? ::..

Diamond bracelets and boulder necklaces hang their expensive weight on the rich and famous, animals killed for clothing and snakes skinned for shoes. A woman shows her success by wearing all that trophies on her body. She walks on the street, her nose high in the clouds. She walks in a beeline, just like she was taught in prep school. Her Jimmy Choo’s kick something soft as she lowers her eyes to see. A young mother, old and haggard with hair crumpled and dry clinging on to her baby, skinny and asleep. A bowl in front of her, with four dollars in it gives her the promise of maybe a meal for her and her baby. The woman now in disgust as she bends down to inspect her shoes for dirt, looks at the mother in disgusts and walks away. “Trash” she mutters under her breath as he stops a cab with her shiny red painted fingernails.

A man fresh out of community college waits in line for the bus to work. Today is his first day at LeoBurnett Advertising. He cluthes his torn bag as he fights his way to stand on the shaky sardin cramped bus. The stench of sweating passengers stick to his shirt as he pries his way out the tiny door. His tie is crooked and his is late. He takes the elavator up and receives stares from the neat and tidy. “I need this job” he think as he pictures  his mother selling fish in the market and how she has suffered for him and his sister. His boss, barely legal to drive a car walks in. The smudge of arrogance plastered on his face as his assistant carries his briefcase and and Starbucks into his office. His Ferragamo tie was neatly done on his white-striped Versace shirt. His Ralph Lauren slacks were shiny and ironed to perfection. He was Mr Burnett’s son, the new Vice President. The quiet son of a monger watched silently as he work the photocopy machine. 

..:: MIAMI ::..

MIAMI

She is a seducer of all who chooses to go there. With her sandy beaches and her friendly residents, she seems friendly. The bright sun and the freedom of people walking around in bikini’s and shorts, flashing their collection of tattoos almost like a small competition paints the streets with such diverse variety, making Miami a meltingpot of different cultures. Her salty breeze from the seas brings such relaxation to mind. That this is all before night falls and her wild side appears.The sun begins to set and once you’ve had seen Miami at night, you will never want to leave her again. Her bright neon lights and blasting music fills the streets almost like Mardi Gras on a quiet summer night. Her ever flowing fountain of alchohol tempts both familiar and unfamiliar to enter her side of sin city. Her sweet elixir brings out the friendliest and the violent side of people. She seduces you with promises that leaves you begging for more. Drunkards fall like flies on the street as the sun slowly rises in the wee hours of the morning. But as the sun’s orange rays pours on the white sandy beaches, Miami’s horn and devil tail goes back into hiding as she is once again the happy promising lady she always is under the sun. 

..:: touch me NOT ! ::..

Stop Staring at me ! All these eyes roam my body as those I was a stuffed chicken on Thanks Giving Day.  Men, creatures of God’s punishment to humanity. He built men with such little common sense who finds the simplest pleasure in life and are such uncomplex being who are given honor to be called MAN. Look at them running after every skirt they see. The city is a hunting ground for these land crocodiles. They watch you from the corner of their eye, pretending to read their newspapers upside down while in their head slowly undressing you in the train, or in the bus, or even in the café. Even a simple quiet lunch is impossible with these vulturous eyes scavenging for fresh meat. If I had a choice, I choose to be ugly, for that is the only way that a woman can get around in the city unnoticed. Boobs popping out, slits up high on thighs, perfect bottle bodies are invitations to these scroungels. They are just as low as the stray dogs in the smokey alleys of the city, only difference is they are better dressed. Once again I set my gaze straight and make a beeline to my office building. Look at them run behind me with such passion. They disgust me. Men are disgusting creatures. Scumbags of the earth.

..:: FLUSHED ::..

The cold air crept under my skin slowly like termites eating their way through old rotten wood. The shiny sink shined with such grace in the dim eerie bathroom. The only light that poured in was from the tiny window above the rusty dirty white bathtub. My only door to the outside world. The bathroom was messy, as though a matador had been provoking a bull in this four tiled walls. The tiles were cracked and yellowed, you could tell that she was old and antique. Her flowers which used to run along the walls were now cut short by the ugly evil cracks which snipped her roses. The sink was a mess, old brittle tootbrush were thrown all over and toothpaste were disgusting squirted everywhere. This was appauling to look. Maggots had made themselves comfortable nesting in the eaten fragile brushes of the half snapped toothbrushes. The mirror was a seduction. The frame was a beautiful golden brass woven in circular motion almost like a hypnosis to whoever who stands before her beauty. Each step on the ice cold floor sent my spine into spasm. It was so cold, almost like snow on a cold winter night, or maybe worse. The chilled painful pricking of the cold air was too much for me to handle. I sit in the corner, hiding myself in between the toilet bowl and the bathtub, trying not to rub my self on the brown rusty pots for fear of being thrown in a fitz from my lack of tetanus immunity. I look up at the window, feeling despair but I fight against the gagging feeling I have in the back of my throat as I feel the green stench of toilet water and the open sewage pipe push its way down my esophagus. The moonlight spills in,  mocking me , teasing me for I am trapped in here and she is out in the big black sky shining her rays on all those who are free. 

..:: PRINCE (SS) ::..

“FAGGOT” burned in red paint which was right across Jimmy’s housedoor. Jimmy, or his feminine name , Jinny was a transgender male who is hoping to undergo a sex change surgery in January next year. The only problem is he hasn’t save enough money to complete his transformation. He works as a exotic dancer in “BA-DA BA-DA BOOM ! ” five days a week. He wasn’t always like this. There was once when Jimmy was a happy boy, but not so happy when his mother remarried a useless drunkard abusive man. His stepfather , with a bottle in one hand sodomized the 9year old and would beat him up if he opens his mouth. All sorts of sexual favors were asked from this 9 year old who one day grew up thinking he wasn’t a man. For a man , would never have been treated or allowed such violence. Now at age 26, Jinny has left his home, and made a new life for himself, being independent on his two feet and with no proper education , he does what he does best, prostitution. Everynight after dancing, his regular customers would wait for him with alcohol stench breaths and pay to have their way with him. “Damn you bastard !” he thinks as he sees his stepfather on the faces of these men. Everynight he cries as he counts the money he has made and put them in a plastic bag under his pillow and countdown to the days when he would leave this life behind and move to the countryside and grow oranges. Jinny smiles as she pushes away the reality and dreams of boundless land with orange trees all lined up.

..:: SUN ::..

The sun burst and new life is born. What we once knew is now a thing of the past. No more technology , no more electric , no more hustling. The competition for achievement is zero and the struggle for status is overthrown. Humans as well as creatures , creatures which we once killed for food and clothing now walk among us. Horses gallops freely along the beach as human lay in the sand enjoying the simple wonders of the world, the setting sun. The orange rays of the new born sun shines hope and equality for all kind. Man and beast now live in perfect harmony and regardless of the way of life before this rebirth , forgiveness and reconcilation has been established. The clock tower, the only piece of technology that is left stands erect overlooking endless greenery several miles near the land which was once a cemetery. The clock was special. It kept the time running and was a symbol of new life and rebirth. It reminded all that time is precious and it is ticking. It also reminded both man and beast of the times before this rebirth and how much suffering had been vanquished. When the clock stop , the sun will faded and the earth will die. The clock tower was our only hope of survival and life. The colorful fruits of the earth fed us all. We had all we needed in the green fertile trees. I wonder if Adam and Eve once lived like this in the Gardens of Eden. God created man , and man created technology – which led to our downfall. A space mission called “Apollo 345” was carried out to measure the life span of the undying burning star but instead of getting a reading, something terrible happened. The space shutter exploded and liquid nitrogen with a different compound reacted towards the heat and froze the sun from inside out. Earth was in darkness for 300 years. Everything and everyone died. The waters levels rose and the sand was truned into mud. We lived in caves freezing from the cold. Even we had changed over such a long period of time. Our skins grew thicker to keep us warm from the cold and we came fairer and our bodies hunch from squatting over fires.We fed on dead animals and humans. Amazingly mother nature was prevailing. She maintained the balance of life with trees , praying that the sun will one day shine. And it did. The days of the the first sun ray was glorious. The sight of everyone emerging from the darkness to bathe in this new warm rays was breath taking. Life began again. We were given the chance to redeem ourselves and start all over again from scratch. The clock began ticking again. We now live in harmony with mother nature and amongst ourselves. Everything is well. The clock towers , which hovers over us, scares us sometime because now we are living on borrowed time. One day the clock will stop , and we it does so does life itself.

..:: MIRROR ::..

The reflection staring back at her disgusted her. Almost laughing at her. She is not her. The dressing table was messy with cosmetic products, all different colors and size like messed up jigsaw puzzles a five year old has given up. Sitting and sobbing , her tears run down leaving a faded water stain on her smeared pink cheeks . Her face twisted in deep thoughts . Battling herself inside she picks up the shiny 30cents blade which shoned the brightest among the plastic cases unevenly thrown about. Her hands shivered and her eyes teared up even more as the cold blade touched the tips of her fingers. Was this her only solution? She was alone and lost and the promises of death tempted her with freedom. All sorts of freedom. As she brought the blade nearer to her wrist, her warm fingers touched her skin and it made her cry even more. It reminded her that she was still alive. She steadied herself and her fingers as she placed the blade just above the star tattoo. Her tears couldn’t help her no more. This is the point of no return. She closed her eyes and let her fingers take control.

..:: LUST ::..

A WOMAN’S BREAKING HEART PRESENTS HER UNDYING LOVE FOR ONE FILM BREAKING STARRING A ESTRANGED WOMAN , LOST AT HEART , ALONE PRODUCED BY THE MAN WHOM SHE LOVED , WALKING AWAY ORIGINAL MUSIC BY HIS SELFISH GREED FOR THE FLESH CASTED BY THE YOUNGER BEAUTIES OF ADOLESCENCE PRODUCTION DESIGNS BY HIS LUST AND GREED ART DIRECTIONS BY THE FACT THAT HE IS MAN.
WRITTEN BY SEX DIRECTED BY MAN

..:: SCARS ::..

She latched the wooden door behind her as she sat down and began carving strawberries with a small knife and dipping them in syrup , while the dog played with the rag doll and squish ball. The bed was a mess, the sofa was not any better. Shoes lined up as towels were thrown about and tissue paper decorated the floor. Her dressing table was a warzone and finding her cellphone was a mission. She got up and pushed aside the hair brush , bangles and keys to make way for her laptop. She sat there, thinking what to write, “ SCARS” she typed slowly with tears in her eyes.

..:: DOLL ::..

He lay over looking the doll not breathing
He looked over as the doll breathe
The breathing doll lay over as he looked
The doll looked over as he lay there breathin
Look as the doll lay him over breathing
He lay not breathing as the doll looked over
Over ! The doll layed him over not breathing !