(image 'borrowed' from www.slutever.blogspot.com)
i'd become kind of stuck with my poetry, i'd hit a wall, everything i wanted to write about i had already written about and i didn't want to repeat myself over and over.
i hadn't written anything for a while, until last friday.
boredom induced clicking was taking me back to the same websites i check several times a day despite a lack of updates. but i realised that i had not been over to Slutever in a while, it is deserving of more than just a casual glance to waste afew minutes, it is a blog with heady tales of bohemia, of squats and drugs and sex.
in short it is pretty much everything my blog (and my life) isn't.
Slutever provides me with an escape, in much the same way that i have a disturbing number of herion fixated books (Motley Crue: The Dirt, Trainspotting, Anthony Kiedis: Scar Tissue, the list goes on....) on my shelf at home yet have never touched drugs in my life...
it is filthy and slightly dangerous, yet viewed from a safe distance.
but one post in particular... and to a certain extent, a second... sent my synapses firing, thoughts and inspiration and online lives, obsessing over social networks and how we wish to be percieved. i tapped away and soon i had a new poem.
this one is dedicated to Karley, Mavi and Theresa:
pouring over digital images
rarely glimpsing digital grimaces
only fools view the blurred life
only fools parade their private lives
and still retain the date stamp
truth can be betrayed by portrayal
why live the life that nobody wants
your life is so much better and now