Blurburger Zine no.1

Oh E are you Everything?

E have you been Expecting me?
Oh E you are pressed yet Empty
And Ears cannot see you.
E are you Elizabeth from the war?
Or Ellie from the 7-11? Who only speaks in Expletives.
I love her. I'm Enchanted.
Oh E do you wish you were an Eagle
And could Escape your concrete prison?
Oh E will you be here forever and Ever
To the very End?

Phoebe Bridger's 'Motion Sickness' as a text chat

I hate you for what you did

I already said sorry like a MILLION TIMES

And I miss you like a little kid

aw

I faked it every time, but that's alright

Wait. WHAT? This can't be true

I can hardly feel anything

I hardly feel anything at all

Are you taking your meds? Need me to come over?

You gave me fifteen hundred to see your hypnotherapist

Oh yeah, I forgot about that. How'd it go?

I only went one time, you let it slide

One time? And you didn't tell me? Why?

Fell on hard times a year ago

I know. OK then

Was hopin' you would let it go and you did

Well. I forgot. I didn't really 'let it go'.

Are you mostly OK now though?

I have emotional motion sickness

That's both sad and lovely. What do you want me to do for you?

Somebody roll the windows down

I will. I'll roll all the windows down for you girl

There are no words in the English language

Well thats just objectively untrue isn't it?

It's just silly

I could scream to drown you out

Sigh. You do that anyway

I'm on the outside looking through

Through what?

You're throwing rocks around your room

Theyre not rocks theyre plushies

WAIT WHAT??

Are you outside watching me?!!!!

And while you're bleeding on your back in the glass

I'll be glad that I made it out

You're freaking me out. I can see you out there.

And sorry that it all went down like it did

Stay there! Putting on my shoes. Coming out to get you

Pheebs? Where you go?

Pheebs?

ANSWER ME!

Please god I'm sorry Pheebs come back Pheebs I love you

Pheebs?

See my Blorg post (7 Feb 25) about the above chat thing.

Some of my photos with Neon Genesis Evangelion episode names on them

See my Blorg post (7 Feb 25) where I talk about that last photo above.

A poem sort of not really only just:

Nightrider of the Packet Cake

She was the Nightrider of the Packet Cake.
She liked the taste of blood
on others lips,
singing the words
of instruction manuals,
and arguing about eggs.

Remember that.

Thang you

Thanks for getting right to the end of the first edition of my little online arty/wordy zine. I'm hugging a Baby Yoda right now in place of your body. That's not weird at all ya weirdo.

All the brest for your futile endevours - Blur ;D