Wednesday 23 October 2024





is the home of the orginal Digital-deviance BUT is no lon ger avaialble





http://fuse.easyjournal.com/

Thursday 28 April 2016


So I found this on the web and it sort of summed me up ~ not that it is that simple.

Just got off an orgy of twittathon and discovered that it can take over your life.

Not sure if I really want to tweet.. "am cleaning my teeth / just got dressed/" but in terms of getting a feel for what is going on around you .. it's pretty stunning.

Not since the invention of the printing press do I think that so much empowerment has been given to people. Even now authority is scheming to limit and control because , quite frankly they are scared by what it can achieve.

Of course they sell this as in our own interest to "protect" us from harm..

Well thank you very much Mr Po-Faced Authority ... I can look after myself Im grown up now and what scares you is that I CAN THINK, assess and make an informed opinion ... tough shit mate your time is limited.


Immediacy of this kind of communication and the extended conversations appeal to my randomised thinking processes .... and out the social conventions of " how are you / nice to meet you ... etc "



Weather sunny but blowin' ...Music Paul Oakenfold Panet Perfecto : 21 radio Streaming.

digital_deviance vers 3 can be found at fusr2.com


Couple of pieces of newish work ....themes are male figures ...mostly nude but then that's how gay guys see the world ... some of the time :D)
http://fuse.easyjournal.com/


possible titles:

my body does this when you look at me"

... and

" this is how you make me feel"

hey tiger draft credit: WHAuden for "Stop all the Clocks"


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.


Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.



He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I

was wrong.


The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.


it encapsualtes a feeling that I empathise with. Though maybe I would challanege the finality of the the last claim.

It's how you feel and you fell this on all occasions you remember the departed but wether it is meant as a mantra for continuing existence then I fear not.

However. it catches that sense of loss inasmuch that everything you do as the survivor of the relationship lacks just that final completeness of satisfaction.

A new job, promotion, succes in sport, theatre/film trips and holidays all just 1% {?} short of total completeness ... so not and emptiness. for that invalidates the pleasures ... none of those is responsible for the death ....but rather inincompleteness ... missing jig saw piece / unfinished meal / piece of music lacking one chord{note]

Platitude is ' ah well. life goes on .. ' but it doesn't for one and if that one was so much for another then the latter is not whole. "I'm going slightly mad ... {Freddy Mercury ?)

one card short of a deck though in this case the card could be the Ace
one link missing the chain
one stair short of a flight

Maybe I didn't love you quite as much as I should
You were always on mind you were always on my mind

losing my mind .. the coffe cup I think about you
standing in the room not going forward not going back

I'd skydive from the moon for you ..... and sail an ocean .... when we held each other tight and you said youwere so happy I was the only person who made you feel glad to be gay not because we were making love at the time ......


drafts :)

perfidious pesecution padding the pained patronage love
the persistance of piercing parted your perfect peace

making the same mistakes again to mutilate your mind
living in the belief that belied the memories you will never find

lost to the lasting lunges of an unrestraining impulse


nearly took all but were left empty-handed
relinquished in that one instant, subsumed
into the rolling breaker that milled to a silt

a rejected soul slipping to unfaced oblivion

the blasted shards, chisled facets scarred
broken, fragmented and splintered,
shards in a deslolate deepening darkness:

could not find the axis to hold totality
but like so much broken glass containing the light
cast down to lie discarded, distressed,
a destitution decaying in dislocated destruction

changed from what you were
mutilated to what you have become

not to seem the same ever
love has become the never
that will be the sever of yourself

once so inviolate; now scattered to a nothing
once so soaring; now clipped in the wing
once so tall; now so low

a seeping, liquidity of nihilism
a shadow-winding shroud that seducts

the strum strung tension: from your skin
the blueness: from your eye
the life: from your smile
the pulse: from your veins
the breath: from your lips
the energy: from your spirit
and the spirit from your soul

for that tiny, tiny,

voice

which is you

we are changed by what we were
we are changed by what we are
we are changed by what we will be
changed by change

distilled, synthesised, clarified essenced and refined
beyond our perception and our small story rises as a saga of unimaginable beauty, unheard, untold yet pulsing through the ether of time ....

but it hurts


hey tiger.... how are you?
better than i was......i guess


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after shock / after storm

there is too much to say
and so many things to ask
and apologies to make
plans to be made and lists to be checked


so many tears to share
and so many fears to allay
and truths to be told
smiles to be given and silences to be filled

so many heart beats to be felt
and so many sighs to soothed
and touches to be shared
breaths to be heard and pulses to be sensed

so many texts to be sent
and emails to be written
and calls to be made
letters to be writ and notes to be exchanged

and none possible without you

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separation by distance can be reduced by communication
separation by time can be compensated

separation by time and distance is another dimension

but separation by silence
without the space of distance or time
is a void

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blue dolphin


arc of light,

I saw a blue dolphin rise in an arc from the deep sea.

Trailing in its curve single droplets of crystal sea
Tiny diamonds of liquid light lapping its air-smoothed body
Frozen in the twisting arc, yet moving with an intensity of light;

Suporting the un-alloyed joy of the creature as it moved between
Spatial domains and in that moment defined a beauty beyond pale..

Perfection in the completion of the vision maybe, defining a new future.

You were my blue dolphin.


written having seen a photograph in the Thursday G2 edition of the Guardian and read an article on how dolphins "train" men ....(04/07/03)

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........it happens

found by the patio window
small shivering heap:

those that brought you so low
languidly laying around disinterested;
puzzled by your living stillness
that sat in my hand so trusting.

a located box lined with tissue
an eye-bath of water,
drops taken from my finger
feather warmth skin perceptible.
tilted head seeing beyond
knowing, what I would find,

a pulse ceased in the night,

and morning sounded,
less one delicate strand.

A perfect stillness.


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50 nuance de gay 5


50 nuance de gay 3 & 4



50 nuance de gay 1& 2