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The pylons were stung by the sleet-filled wind, like us, and rattled their maintenance locks.

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Glacier-scraped highland scape, semi-portable, in case you've entered this valley in error & claustrophobia's setting in.

Couldn't get a shot past traffic, but the word's been smudged into an illegible pale blur, as sometimes happens when ghosts pass away.

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talking about old gay porn 

God, there's a scene later with a guy jerking off & getting fingered while lying back on a working 1988 Gottlieb Robo-Wars table, bumper lights flashing under his shoulders, in front a wall of windows whose blinds fill the entire backdrop with the most overwhelming moiré patterns.

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talking about old gay porn 

Really into the way the serial-era driving effects in this porn (Cadinot's Pressbook) contrast with the inspection tags (& lounge house) precisely dating when it was filmed. Like, you start making out and time starts fraying, yeah, ideal.

Even the more recalcitrant of my convalescent feet allowed me a midnight walk of 7 blocks, a distance sufficient both to crest a hill into a turbulent outburst of wind that shoved me to & fro like the crowds I've been pining for, &! to share the sidewalk with a fox on an urgent errand. A gift!

blood, feet, surgery, house-razing 

While cutting at my feet, my surgeon mentioned that her house had just burned. The details echoed, startlingly closely, those of the house-fire I narrowly escaped as a child, but I was too preoccupied with bleeding & being sympathetic to worry that I might be a carrier for a curse.

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blood 

Post-surgically blood-tipsy, goring up my outfit in a stretching languor.

I saw another foraging party of black vultures (& clasped my hands at my chest in delight). It was a younger group—some still had mussed manes of juvenile feathers! They'd dragged a roadside meal halfway up a hill, and again felt like the sort of party I'd covet an invitation to.

Sunsets can be safely watched through the windows of moving vehicles, or through meshes of branches parallaxing as you run. In other circumstances, even the best thereof, the need to be elsewhere can swell until it constricts the lungs.

At some point I heard Dennis Wheatley tell an interviewer that while he knew any number of prominent occultists, he'd always refrained, himself, because that sort of enthusiasm made one apt to neglect one's wife & career.

Leant close on the stoop to douse the candles in our skulls.

The ghost haunts a subway bench at 13th Street until the fluorescent tubes wear out. The ghost haunts the sidewalk flower beds at Market & 38th until the ornamental cabbages desiccate.

Brushed hands with the vet tech as I handed him a carrier-full of ill cat and, later, after hearing a relatively rosy prognosis, realized it'd been the first time I'd touched someone in nearly three months. That's an awful long time to go without checking whether I'm a ghost yet.

Sat weeping in bed having finally escaped a pseudo-dream of pure unbearable sound/texture, smooth-rasping cotton-corium-contrail-?-?, the sort of nightmare I must have had as an infant who always woke up inconsolable.

Perch boosted

Bit that finial clean off. Snap! Gone. One less orb on your manse.

Suddenly I dove under the bed and gently bundled a stunned mouse into my handkerchief. That brings me even with the cats at 1-all for the season.

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Eldritch Café

Une instance se voulant accueillante pour les personnes queers, féministes et anarchistes ainsi que pour leurs sympathisant·e·s. Nous sommes principalement francophones, mais vous êtes les bienvenu·e·s quelle que soit votre langue.

A welcoming instance for queer, feminist and anarchist people as well as their sympathizers. We are mainly French-speaking people, but you are welcome whatever your language might be.