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Thursday, July 31
thank you will
Wednesday, July 30
privy turns out to mean "he that throws himself into hell"
the passage below, i.e. the previous post, was written by
Prince Rogers Nelson
we met once, last winter, in an airport.
he in transit to Monaco
myself in transit to Maccau
i asked him if he meant what he said in the poem and he
"never take me for granted my daughter,
i know you wish you were..."
bury me, exhume what remains and burn it. the ashes powder your privy
the whore is a queen, her throne a ruin
her land a piece of shitty field
her sceptre a purse of red patent leather:
she barks in the night,
dirty and ferocious as an ancient mother:
she defends her possessions and her life.
the pimps swarming around
bloated and beat
Monday, July 28
there is a book, maybe you will find it... covered in soot, covered in brine, at the top of a pole
Friday, July 25
answers ?? ?? ?? ? to seVen SeveN SEvEN questionoitseuq
It has also interfered with my ability to enjoy normal sex. I start to find it dainty and polite and boring
i can only orgasm when i have a black eye.My biggest perversion is my sado-masochistic side - or I suppose it's just a sadistic side. I like to tie up girls and shove things inside them and make them choke on my dick. I only feel bad about it when I am starting to date someone new. It makes me feel bad because I actually consider myself a feminist, but there I am sitting across from someone, getting to know them, and fantasizing about their tears smearing their makeup while they're tied up in my room.
it is the fact that i deny my homosexuality.
Untitled«, 2008 by Igor Eskinja.
Tuesday, July 22
AT (on) THE MERCH PAGE
ONE OF A KIND
(maybe KINDA PRICEYooooooooooooooo
IF YOU ARE
( JUST SO YOU KNOW )
I SAID BEFORE THEY WERE NOT UP
BUT TIMES HAVE CHANGED!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i
Monday, July 21
does anyone know...
where one could find any soundtrack recordings by
(the teacher of toru takemitsu)
"ugetsu" (but anything would be great or greta)
I get a beating....
question of the bat of xiu xiu, sucking your blood and winding you up for no good end number se7en
i unlock thee, my secret pink darkness and plead with myself to allow for more...
what is your deepest perversion or most intent vice?
do you feel good about it or bad about?
if you send an answer to email@example.com@nrubtilliw
i may post it at xiuxiu.orggro.uixuix
new video (to me anyway) of oldish/older song that makes say mother of fuck. thank you for the tip K.K.
two answers to Quest shun 6 coming up the rear (i.e. late but still banging)
Ok I know you asked this a long time ago but I like the question so I'm going to answer it anyway.
I have a very strange body. It's mostly made up of skin and bones.. People used to ask me if I was anorexic because I've always been so thin. But I'm not. I love food so much! Anyway, Sometimes I like how strange and angular my limbs look, like something in an Egon Schiele drawing. But other times I see my reflection in a window and it's pretty alarming to see my strangely long neck awkwardly lurking foward. Another thing that's very distinct about me is that I have very big eyes. Not only that but they have very dark circles around them that never go away. Sort of menacing.. But usually I cover them up with makeup to look less like a crackwhore.. haha.
Something very confusing is that in recent years I 'grew a butt', or so my friends tell me-- where once there was none. It's more comfortable to sit on, now, anyway.
i hate my sternum. whereas most people's sternums are flat, or a little concave, mine is convex - it sticks out in the center, and although it's not too noticeable when wearing a not-too-tight shirt, it's painfully obvious when i'm shirtless (i've heard it referred to as pigeon chested, i think). I've spoken to doctors about it and actually contemplated corrective surgery, but they would have to cut open my chest to fix it, leaving me with scars that would be worse than the offending bone. I recently started working out, trying to build up enough chest muscle to hide it - even though a doctor told me when i was younger that i couldn't put too much muscle on because the strain against my ribcage could cause it to collapse, i've decided to ignore his warnings (i think he was a bit of a quack anyway). i also don't trim my chest hair, hoping that the hair will hide it.
Friday, July 18
new things of this earth
there are new items on the xiuuix merch page
they were supposed to as well put some art shirts i made but alas
sometimes they just don't
but sometimes they put up and out out things that i did NOT send either
answers to ?6 of the shwee shwee piss jam on the lawn '08
sometimes i hate my body, the most of the time i do
not like it. little sad brests, tired belly from neverending diet...,
feet that they walk every time in different way and so on and so on and
so on....and it is so fuckin lonely and sometimes i punish my body and
cut it but sometimes i just feel sorry for my body because i shuldnt
blame it for anything...sometimes me and my body is like two different
persons...personality of our body!!!strange!!!! last times i want to
look like japanees person and i dont know why. i wish never ever hear
from anybady with who i am in bed and in front of who i am without
clothes that something is wrong with me. oh fuck why do i write about
The torso confuses me. Well it all confuses me: limbs, head, and torso. But it is an accepted confusion for the former two. For the former two, I don't know what others think, and I'm not sure what I think myself, but it doesn't matter to me. I've decided that they are nice enough for public display; I've no choice in this heat. The torso though...it is always hidden, so I can never know what others think. I can hardly know what I think. I like the hair, I hate the shape, I like the color, I hate the blemishes. What I like and hate doesn't make a difference though if I'm afraid to show it all at all. So the torso is confusing. I want to be okay with it, but I feel like that would be abnormal, not my torso itself. I need to exercise more. I lost 5 pounds but gained it back. I somehow summoned the courage to go to the beach with my friends. One of them told me I had big nipples.
The one thing I remember most about my mother is that she was cloaked with moles. Real moles, the kind that jut out from the skin and dark hairs sprout from, the kind you see on the noses of witches in movies--only my mother was a pretty woman. Just a pretty woman covered in moles. She would spend hours plucking hair from her moles every night at the mirror, so her moles were often enflamed. There were a gaggle of moles on her neck, right above where a collar would cover them, one on her forehead and a smattering up and down both of her arms. As a child I thought they were disgusting, so stark next to her pale skin, but was becoming aware as I grew older that my own small, flat "beauty marks" were growing larger and more unsightly-- I knew that I too would be cloaked with moles in time. I think the exact day it dawned on me that this would be a problem was when the little catty brunette who lived next door to me poked one of the primordial moles on my elbow and said it wasn't a "beauty mark" but an "ugly mark." Once puberty hit, they just seemed to pop up all over my skin, some large, others small, but in great quantities that swathed my back, stomach, legs--one grew on my breast that I was so sure would be mistaken for a third nipple it took me 2 years of college and a bottle of jack to finally take my shirt off for someone. I tried getting some removed, but since this was some years ago the tactics were a bit undeveloped, and in lieu of the moles that once lined my jaw line I now have strange, purplish scars resembling some very odd burns. Sometimes when I'm bored I take a sharpie and draw lines in between the moles on my arms and pretend they are constellations. I told one lover that if traced properly, the moles on my back marked the map to the free world. I put some really ridiculous tattoos over others.
The largest, most misshapen and hairy moles are on my chest, right above my breasts and below the throat, right where pendants of necklaces are supposed to lay. My moles confuse me. Why did they come here and colonize my skin? Why does hair grow from them? To keep them warm? I cut off one with a pocket knife when I was 15 and it grew back larger and more deformed, just to spite me. I fear my moles may someday grow cancer and kill me in rebellion for being treated so poorly, with so much shame.
teeth confuse the shit out of me.
you'd think since they've been around for so long they'd figure out how to grow in correctly,
yet everyone has braces.
well, i don't. but a lot of people do.
and my wisdom teeth are growing in sideways, says the doctor?
what the fuck?
when i look in the mirror i see a distorted view of my completely strange body. i spend a lot of time worrying about my butt. my giant panda hips and little crow chest. the left side of my face is much prettier than the right. my back is covered in red dots from hell. im truly worried that no one will ever accept me for these things again. i have ruined my chances at not being completely alone.
i am not circumsized and as a child this came as a source of great confusion for me. i thought it was something genetic, for me to have this wrinkly flap that the other boys didn't when we got undressed for the swimming unit in gym. but my dad didn't have it either. i wanted to ask if my grandpa did before the heart attack. but i've found that now this is an o.k. thing and i have a lover who does not care.
also, i swear i have thunder thighs. but i'm biking now. i'm working on it.
My eyes, regardless of how good I feel or what chemicals I smear on them, continuously carry large dark circles underneath. I am always having to answer people's questions that I'm not ill or tired or hung over, just born that way. When people take my picture and I have a genuine smile on my face, I still look like I've been up all night worrying about nuclear winter.
Also, if you haven't read Ray Kurzweil's The Age of Spiritual Machines, it contains a pithy but excellect recounting of the mind-body paradox, as well as points out the likely eventuality that we will all be cyborgs and our bodies will become as interchangeable as rolls of toilet paper.
My facial hair confuses me. Starting at my chin and going down, I have full facial hair. Apart from that, I have a pubescent-esque crustache and some mole hairs on my cheek. The mole hairs freak me out so much that I pluck them. I now have a neurotic obsession with plucking my mole hairs.
no blood to my limbs
pins and needles will prickle
touching without touch
I am most confused about my voice.
People say 'madam' to me on the phone. People ask me if my father is home on the phone.
Aparently I sound like a scared little girl, while I have strong jaw lines
and broad shoulders. meh.
Why oh why oh why,
My body is strong, My body is quick, I am agile and ever limber, I can actually run and lift things up and look like a man man...But, whenever I try to play a group sport, I am the slowest, dumbest and most absent minded person alive. I can NEVER grasp wich direction I am supposed to run, or calculate where the ball will land, or why the fuck I agreed to do this to myself.
Also- I can assemble my rifle super quick, using ninja like muscle memory, but I don't know how to dance in front of people without feeling nervous enough to shit my pants.
And- I don't get those bus erections, why does my body feel so aroused, whenever I put it on a bus.
Thursday, July 17
i can't wait to see you
please for your own sake go go go go go there and see the rest of them,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,
Wednesday, July 16
Sunday, July 13
top this jamie stewart
question 6 of the xiu xiuian era (is it waining... i often wonder but will fight forever to be worthy)
i have a funny face. in certain photos it looks peevish and ugly and in others it looks overly hostile and gaunt. in some it looks comically handsome and amusingly heroic.
it does not rest easily on my skull.
my skull in fact is made of sugar and wax though so the only thing that does rest easily on it is bugs.
my skin is like this too. parts of it are actually gross and pale and red and bumpy. i hate to see it. i hate to live in it.
parts of it are smooth and feminine and i wish it covered my whole body in this way. i love to dream an impossible dream.
so uneven. so putrid and so touchable depending on the approach one takes.
at once icky barf and yummy vain...
what about your body confuses you?
if you answer this question and then email that answer to firstname.lastname@example.org
i may post your reply on the xiuxiu.ugh donut blog.
open up your heart to the world or i will kill you
Saturday, July 12
Members also began leaving piles of leaflets in public places.
from marisa handren the genius
Felix Gonzalez Torres
I might have already posted this link on here. I can't remember.
Look him up if you don't know: Felix Gonzalez Torres.
I am trying to collect as many envelopes as I can for this project before THURSDAY, so if you want a free FGT candy, send me a SASE.
Friday, July 11
Thank you Japan
The gold ink looks amazing on the Japanese version of Women As Lovers CD
drive forever in a day
i am so drunk. where is everyone? what is going on? should i go on tour? fuck the polaroid projects, if i go on tour i will ask people to bring in throwaway cameras. fuck it all. that will be better. don't have to worry about the burden of the image. just take a photograph that is it. where are you now? oklahoma? the mission? new york? ches smith, i want $150000000 worth of brooklyn pizza. Caralee, i want $4000000 worth of mission pies. Jamie, I want dubu and panchan. Devvvvvvvvvvvv I want anarchism in the form of open spontaneity. what i want is not satisfaction, it isn't money, it isn't boredom, it isn't berlin, it isn't anything. all i want is a fuckying koi pond.
Wednesday, July 9
Randomly ran across this in an English bar last week.
Sunday, July 6
to the castle and to the meadow,
there is not a pounding which can
flatten you nor
is there an upheavel which can furrow thee.
tears tears of sorrow tears tears of hope
!!!!!!! and see you soon enough
good bye kay
good bye john
good bye brenda
good bye george
good bye the maestro
good bye jen
good bye matthew
good bye wilbert
good bye d. chun
good bye caralee
good bye julie
you don't need that bike kelson
answers to V the answers the FVie
It was a big relief to me when I discovered I was a furry. It is a part of my life that I had no idea existed but feels so good. I will go to a convention and it will feel like I am going home.
maybe this is late but its a great relief to me that im a stupid gay baby and i can just tell yuou instead of writing a ridiculous poem
(I already typed this once, but I accidentally pulled the plug out of
my ancient laptop whilst chasing a moth around my bedroom and now I
can't really remember what I said... maybe the moth was sent to
prevent me from making an idiot of myself via the internet ((again??))
It happens too much. The Moth is dead now and I am full of guilt!)
(I have an eating disorder, but sssh)
A great relief to ME is when no-one (ever ever) asks me about it. When
nobody asks me why. When it doesn't even register. When no-one notices
how weird I'm acting, etc etc etc (When people finally give up on me.
Ha ha ha.) I know I sound completely tragic in a
super-lame-kind-of-way when I say that, but I am so, so bored of
myself. Right now, distracting (in ANY way) from the issue, rather
than addressing it, is the greatest relief (ever ever) from my stupid
Does that even make sense? Have I missed the point?
Oh, wise moth... why didn't I take heed..
what relieves me: jerking off, anonymous/internet hookups, smoking cigarettes, smoking weed, listening to xiu xiu
I'm scared saying something is a great relief, because then soon enough, cynicism and disbelief will start gnawing away at that too...
But if I have to say something is a great relief to me, i'd have to say it's the fact that I can make art...
What else can take me away from the dull time I have as a soldier, or the failing two-week relationships I lead, or the fact that i'm just another homo, or the fact my friends don't really know me, or that my parents are'nt happy.... that I live in a small sad town.... that i'm growing older and lonlier, or that I'm severly depressed?
I guess it's the fact, that i can allow myself to believe that oneday, someone will look at the stuff I make, and say wow... you're an amazing person, I know everything about you and I still want to be with you.
But then again, it could all be rubbish, and I could turn up looking like some dumb angsty teen.
Sparks above, power sky high
in the USA, i am alive
wild fires, grow
its raining, death from above
in iraq, i am a lie
it's war on terrorism
historically war on us
putting out a fire with gasoline
sarcastic relief, hope in force breading more
but i have this disabled veteran's umbrella
and i know where i got it and what its good for
i found this on the empty souls highway
the pavement first made for assault tanks
I'm hopeful this rain will end
its a relief i have more than hope to make it
this country's obssion with power and death
so i am American i am tired being
pessimistic so capitalistic
i start to think
what gives me great relief
its feeling the line between laughing and crying
its the music of my independence
its not believing in lines on a map
to grow beyond
i shave my head for life not death
Saturday, July 5
Dear caralee #2
yes and maybe!
haha, fill in the blanks!
September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010