#imaginaryconversations

[optipess]

[Extremely Witty Comeback]

[emmitavela]

My exhibition ‘The end is silence’ is on until 16.10 at Love & Money gallery (at Hasan & Partners), Pursimeihenkatu 29-31 B. Opening hours mon - fri 9-16

[aprofreshional]

Come on bebe, don't be like that

Bebe = the way I pronounce baby

I walked by the bebe while I was eating a corn dog. I was minding my own business until suddenly I hear this milk curdling shriek.

Bebe: wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhuhuhuhahhhhhh (roughly translated: heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy)

Me: what is it bebe?  Why you do dis?

Bebe: blarghhhhhwahhuhffffff (roughly translated: what is that? can I have it?) (From now onward only rough translations will be included)

Me: What?! No bebe you cannot eat this corn dog you don’t even have teeth!

Bebe: cmonnnn don’t be like that. give me a chance

M: No bebe, I cannot give you this corn dog. It is bigger than your arm. Plus you still spit up milk, I can’t even imagine what you’d do with a hot dog wrapped in cornbread.

B: come onnnnnnnn. let me just suck on it or something

M:…..I don’t think that’s a good idea

B: cmon baby don’t be like that

M: Oh, OK.

Then the bebe suckled happily on what used to be my breakfast.

[thisisourblood-blog]

Imaginary Conversations 4 - Out of Order

[thisisourblood-blog]

The sky spits on us, on the nicely brushed pavement and against the blackened asphalt road I am the albino pigeon - often seen around. There are no children around and no-one, not even the seldom moving have died. Red sits on the street corner and Old Man shuffles through that which was OUT OF ORDER as the sign is removed and the glass wire weight is held for him. He smiles at Red with lemon yellow teeth and she sucks her gums and spits. Somewhere up above a black baby bird cracks through his shell and falls not too far to die. His feathers are tufted at angles awkward but all of us will make it to tomorrow. Of this I am sure.

imaginary conversations - 4

"out of order"

[thisisourblood-blog]

Imaginary Conversations 3 - "This is the Marvinville Police Station"

This imaginary conversation is brought to you by my musings while sitting in the shower. I'm too scared to check the recent calls on my phone because who knows what you'll find once you go digging. Ah - regret.

[thisisourblood-blog]

Imaginary Conversations 2

Imaginary Conversations 2 - The Sun Dips

“Another time, maybe. It’s a story for daytime. And I have to be stoned to tell it, I’m not now, so -” “It’s a story that never gets told, does it?” You shrug, I sigh. We stare out and the sun dips, dips down.