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onbewust` // in plaats van te bestaan zit ik te schrijven.

onbewust



Last Updated: 5/23/2008

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Gender: Male
Status: Divorced
Age: 24
Sign: Capricorn

City: Gent.
Country: BE
Signup Date: 9/3/2006

Blog Archive
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Friday, April 18, 2008 

Current mood:  accomplished
Category: Art and Photography


As an artist, I am constantly struggling to find ways to challenge the limits of my chosen medium, which is sperm, and push my audience toward a higher level of both cognition and meta cognition--to see, in other words, the art beyond the art, the way the art steps beyond being an object of "art," so to speak, and invokes a definition that calls into question the very fabric of life and existence and our species' interaction with the physical and emotional world. For example, my last piece, "Jerking Off On The Orange Line," was intended to push the boundaries of physical expression and inspire self-reflection among the three Catholic high school girls at the end of the car, whose expectation of a Metro ride without the opportunity to witness another human masturbating was challenged--I think, for the better. Its follow-up piece, "Running Pantless Through the Station," was a breathless exploration of the nexus where the tyranny of law enforcement intersects with the vibrant pulse of individuality and liberal expression. "My Cock In Her Sleeping Mouth," perhaps one of my most controversial pieces, explored the biological, social, physical, and emotional consequences of one-sided fellatio, and often misunderstood expression of deep, abiding affection. Its follow-up, "Ejaculate on Her Forehead," takes this a step further, calling into question the ideas of what it means to "own" ones own skin. Symbolically, in turning her white with my love, I am exploring complex issues of race and challenging my audience to question their own biases, prejudgments, and narrow world views.
Sunday, December 23, 2007 

Current mood:  adventurous


She's so fucking cute and sweet. I'd treat her to some fancy restaurant, then take a long romantic walk with her, holding hands and talking about philosophy, art and dreams. Then I'd invite her to my home and ravage her hot ass for hours, and forcing my cock down her throat so she choked on both the throbbing cock and her own rectal juice. I'd then proceed to cum on her cute innocent face. Then, as the ultimate love gift, I'd carry her in my arms to the tub and let my piss wash away the semen and last dignity from her. I'd whisper "I love you" and give her a tender smile, and cut her throat from ear to ear with a knife. Covered in her own warm blood, she'd look straight into my very soul, forgiving, understanding. A bubble from blood and saliva would burst between her lips, then she'd die. After some additional lovemaking, I'd stuff her in a bin bag. Three Weeks later, some playing children will find her mutilated and desecrated body in the forest. They will be scarred for life.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007 

Current mood:  working


But always I have taken heart from what Theodore Roosevelt once said about the man in the arena, "whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again because there is not effort without error and shortcoming, but who does actually strive to do the deed, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumphs of high achievements and with the worst if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly."


Listen.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007 

Current mood:  crushed
Category: Romance and Relationships
When I was eight, I was sent to live on the melon farm of an uncle- a sixth-grade dropout who attributed his IQ of 70 to sniffing gasoline and glue from the age of five, and whose manner of compulsively clawing at the skin behind his neck was a characteristic sign of amphetamine toxicity. One morning, he served me a cereal that consisted of sweetened corn puffs and marshmallow, hook-nosed, beareded "Jews." I asked him to never serve that cereal to me again. The next morning, he set a heaping bowl of the same cereal on my place mat. I killed him with a 12-gauge shotgun blast before lunch. That night, I buried him in the cyclone cellar. I stole his pickup truck and drove to a huge, diesel-run electric turbine plant near the outskirts of the city and I had my first sexual experience. Afterward, I lit a cigarette and looked up into the sky-there was God, wearing a pink polo shirt, khaki pants and brown Top-Siders with no socks, his blond hair blowing in the powerful wind of charged particles and intense ultraviolet radiation from the galactic center. I hated him... and he hated me.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007 

Current mood:  amused
Category: Writing and Poetry
Karl antwoordde niet, maar richtte zich van nu af meer op de Ier, die hij ook vroeg nu even zijn koffer te dragen, wat deze nadat Karl zijn verzoek meermalen had herhaald ook deed. Alleen klaagde hij onafgebroken over het gewicht van de koffer, tot bleek dat hij alleen de bedoeling had de koffer zoveel lichter te maken als de Veronese salami woog, die hem waarschijnlijk in het hotel al in aangename zin was opgevallen.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007 

Current mood:  amused
Category: Romance and Relationships
Zo was het gegaan, en terwijl Ulrich nog overdacht hoe onaangenaam het zou zijn geweest wanneer hij zijn tijd weer had moeten besteden aan een van die liefdesavonturen waar hij al lang genoeg van had, werd hem een dame aangekondigd die haar naam niet wilde noemen en die zwaar gesluierd bij hem binnentrad. Zij die haar naam en adres niet had genoemd was het die op deze romantisch-charitatieve wijze, onder het mom bezorgd te zijn over zijn toestand, het avontuur eigenmachtig prolongeerde.

Twee weken later was Bonadea al sinds veertien dagen zijn geliefde.
Saturday, August 11, 2007 

Current mood:  busy
Category: Blogging
Chino Yray A blog that helps you earn linden dollars is giving away L$5000!
To enter, you just have to write about it. This is my entry. Now give me the money!
Tuesday, January 09, 2007 

Current mood:  bouncy
Het nieuwe Arena51 Forum!
Monday, October 16, 2006 

Current mood:  amused
I am a scenester!



You are so indie it hurts. You hang out with the coolest people in your city. It doesn't even bother you that none of them know your name. You know lots of bands personally, you know a couple of guys from We Hate The Mainstream Records, and you blag your way into getting almost everything for free. That fanzine you write gives you extra kudos. You probably don't even care that non-scenesters think you're a pretentious fuck.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006 

Current mood:  grateful

Het komt niet veel voor dat ik mij iets herinner. Het meeste vergeet ik en wat ik nog weet vergeet ik ook. Er is slechts leven van vandaag tot morgen. Als één dag slecht is kan de volgende alleen beter zijn. Soms zit ik in de goot en hoop op iets dat alles zal veranderen. Soms lig ik in haar schoot en wil ik dat niets ooit nog veranderd. Maar uiteindelijk vergeet ik alles en blijven slechts de littekens over, en dankbaar ben ik voor al wat mij eraan herinnert dat het verleden echt was.