queerquarrels.wordpress.com
In me. | queerquarrels
https://queerquarrels.wordpress.com/2015/12/30/in-me
Queer multifarious ramblings / @queerquarrels. December 30, 2015. Fucked in the night, under a roll down blackout – face recognition disabled. Not so romantic as ‘I’ve been holding for years’ – but –. Tissues moist and secreting, the whole wagon of life complexifying to a wet ecstasy. Years of the most subtle, yet obvious, closure. Dropping away with a desperate clawing for flesh and tempo. Fucking, primal – pinned to the present through a messy and seductive biology,. Next post →. Follow me on Twitter.
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Fuck your family parks. | queerquarrels
https://queerquarrels.wordpress.com/2016/08/22/fuck-your-family-parks
Queer multifarious ramblings / @queerquarrels. August 22, 2016. Fuck your family parks. Fuck your family parks,. For gardens of fuck dust and virility,. Deep and doggy style in strewn explicit litter,. In obvious but well hidden niches – in precarious hill side glades,. What won’t manage a buggy for you,. Is a warren of orgy to us,. Animal counter-measure to your pacifying rose gardens,. And playing fields of meek compliance. Fuck your world class cuisine,. Bad sushi and overpriced wine,. In a temple,.
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The ‘chav’ battle – some closing words. | queerquarrels
https://queerquarrels.wordpress.com/2015/01/28/the-chav-battle-some-closing-words
Queer multifarious ramblings / @queerquarrels. January 28, 2015. The ‘chav’ battle – some closing words. In my view, some of you fell on the wrong side of the chav debate this last week. Some of you ‘liked’ supporting or mocking comments. Some of you even chipped in your own away from my feed. The truth that, the chav stereotype, alongside specific styles and tastes, is seen to very much embody these characteristics in the popular consciousness. And the ultimate truth that, the stereotype of the chav...
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DarkMatter Burn in Brighton | queerquarrels
https://queerquarrels.wordpress.com/2015/06/09/darkmatter-burn-in-brighton
Queer multifarious ramblings / @queerquarrels. June 9, 2015. DarkMatter Burn in Brighton. Eaten up by both your fire and inflamed by it. Left dancing with this ache of an insight. And a tremble at an echo at a kind of embodiment I can never know. But then that I know profoundly through my own bodily investment. I can only burn inward. Burning outward only by allowance. Hearing only through exposure. Seeing only by a kind of craft wrought in the screams muffled to us. Next post →. Follow me on Twitter.
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When I look at you. | queerquarrels
https://queerquarrels.wordpress.com/2015/04/07/when-i-look-at-you
Queer multifarious ramblings / @queerquarrels. April 7, 2015. When I look at you. I used to know you were in the kitchen before I entered. Not because I could hear you. Picked at each string in hesitation of your heat and heavyweight. Took interest in your rage at it all – not all unjustified. The dining chairs were always more present, more uncomfortable. I felt the delicate fold of my fingers, and the flow of my downcast gaze,. Felt my own frailty like I was meant to. But you were deaf to it. You are c...
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Our Glorious Bodies: Strategies for resisting mainstream prescriptions of allure and beauty. | queerquarrels
https://queerquarrels.wordpress.com/2015/06/26/our-glorious-bodies-strategies-for-resisting-mainstream-prescriptions-for-allure-and-beauty
Queer multifarious ramblings / @queerquarrels. June 26, 2015. Our Glorious Bodies: Strategies for resisting mainstream prescriptions of allure and beauty. Courtesy of Luke Beachey. This year, as part of the Albion Faeries summer solstice celebrations. A circle of courageous faeries came together to share our experiences of embodiment: to talk about how our body issues; anxieties, fears, comparisons, resentments and projections shape our experience of the world, our intimacies and relationships. Some of u...
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Dirty boys and colloidal silver. | queerquarrels
https://queerquarrels.wordpress.com/2016/12/15/dirty-boys-and-colloidal-silver
Queer multifarious ramblings / @queerquarrels. December 15, 2016. Dirty boys and colloidal silver. What are you to me, but a blind spot. Futile concealment in boundary-less wake. Love on the perimeter. Interrupted in momentary breakouts:. Cycles through deluge of analysis and self defence. Wounds spent to early,. Words only spent on fucking. I spend my days looking for you. Tread seedy low light pathways,. Wondering if you’ll emerge,. Like an adult rated eternal Pan. I wonder who you’re with and why.
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