Sasha Grey

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Permalink Reply by Marques De Valia on October 24, 2011 at 7:40pm

"what?" and she slaps, me, real playful, on
thechin. smiles, not a smirk, a dangerous smile with
full lips and wide eyes..."are you angel or devil? come
on, answer the question?" her voice was deep.

"come on," and suddenly she was shafted all the way up
to my belly, she pulled my shirt up so our bellies were
sweaty against each other in the hot night. Her flat
belly rippeled gently against my own.

"Angel," i said before she could repeat the question. I guess it was the right answer.
She kissed me again, this time like a LOVER, with soft
tenderness nothing like the first kiss where she had
almost raped my mouth. Now the gentle searching was like
a spiral of heaven. she moved back away and towards me,
and hooked her fingers in my belt loop, she wrapped her
leg around me and humped me with the grace of -- of a
strange ballerina, she slowly kissed me with her mouth
while her pussy squeezed my cock and she slid back and
forth soslowly..."yes..." i couldnt help myself...i
said it out loud.
night had fallen over the city. a car drove by
slowly...i looked through heavy lids and saw the old
woman staring...she seemed somehwere between bemused and
into the picture herself.

it was strange...but the whore
was still fucking me, her muscles strong and then slack,
controlling them..somehow...she slid back and forth,
caressing my face, my chest...

after time she began to move faster.

"you're gonna come inside me now, angel." no way, i
thought to myself. not taking the chance. i know how to
control my dick when i need to. "maybe...maybe i choose
not to."

the whore, goddess, whatever she was, she looked almost
surprised. she closed her eyes and threw her head back
and suddenly i felt a surge of heat, heat! flowing out
of the place where our bodies had become one thing, and
she continued her sexual dance, faster and faster.

i clamped down, but could not suppress a moan."

ohh..."
"yeah, you're gonna give me that seed, angel."
she was rocking, dancing on my crotch like an angel
dancing on the head of a pin, maybe, she - she -
screamed out an -

unintelligible-- i hadn't meant to but it was too
much...the heat of her chamber, the wetness and strength
of her, her beauty, i gave. i could feel the little
death of it as the seed flew and my thighs became weak.
"oh, god, yes."
she held me then...i felt so strange.
fucked hard in a dirty alley by a whore when minutes
ago...how much time had passed?
"That was the best hour i have wasted in a while," she
said. I held her, with that finger still hooked into my
belt loop, she wore no panties, natch, only fishnets,
and garters, hat classic combination...give me a
cigarette, and your name." i started to push her away
and she clamped down. "why rush it? it feels good
doesn't it?"
she squeezed with her inner muscles, i heard the slight
sound and felt the juices flowing hot between us, within
her...i could feel it firming again, amazed. she squoze
again, and again, like a pump, and then it happened...

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Permalink Reply by Marques De Valia on October 30, 2011 at 10:39am

To study mysticism is to study  the self. To study the self is to  forget the self. To forget the self  is to be one with all things. To be  one with all things is to be  enlightened by all things, and  this traceless enlightenment  continues forever. Dogen, stalin, hitler, poland, finland and the politically correct. it's just you and me, we are The Surrealists. as far as being profound, and being visible, not trapped in obscurity and telling ourselves it is the avantgarde? i'm only sorry that they are getting away with this trompe-le-monde on  purely impersonal grounds. personally i am glad because it makes the  upcoming victory that much more sweet. i know KNOW know that people owe you apologies that you have dealt with in your way.  i am owed SO many and so much more.  they have already started to come with the resulting "too proud to apologise" people  to me, well, i forgive them, but i extend my middle finger as i flush, and think of them all and the  things  that they did in that  certain sort of way that they treated me, lately i am thinking of the interview that is going up at Borderline where you simply say "journalists..." and the little laugh, well, that sort of is making the entire daily show block strategically unnecessary.   so this is how i get to celebrate our birthday, in case we don't, again, get to hang out. but at least we can keep in touch in this way.  it's something. opposites attract, likes repel, it is true of magnets. and so, yet, all the same there is the matter of the will, the true and actual will, not the Will according to Friedrich who is dead wrong and of course, also Dead! "there are many copies" but they are all all more stupid than the original. not "just as smart," but -- oh, yeah... GOD! i was so worried.  so worried that, well, deadjournal became this delightful morbid little way to take refuge.  but people are giving me mad love at long last.  a comedy career sort of loosely based on survival of satanic ritual abuse is the thing that gets me the mad love. it was sort of, my choice, get therapy or die.  and as i saw the many who were debilitated by the million little rapes, the constant storm of comets that rape the planet each day, because -- well, because they Do, because western science says that intuition is useless, and as such, they are  as crippled as empirical crumbs that only believe in themselves. -- i look so SO much better than daniel tosh with my clothes off, it's a warm and happy feeling. but how will we do this other stuff? while the hotheads are in the street enjoying pain addiction,  what will we do to actually raise awareness? i know i am putting the similarity of misogyny and racism into EVERY SINGLE CONVERSATION that i can. racism, ageism, misogyny, all the wrongheaded social poisons, prejudices vodca and cigaret? yes, please.  racism and misogyny?> WHY DO THAT PUT THAT POISON INTO THEIR BODIES? i like this one. (after all, this IS still a personal letter.)  ENVY, THAT is the magazine. THAT is going to be on the streets of new york on black paper with green ink.  so glad that http://theyenvy.us/ because the Dadas are more human and more transhuman at the same time.  Man Ray and Salvador Dali, sitting on their hands afraid to make public statements? this is the poison of pop culture, and its antiintellectualist, basic weak methods of being and  stifling more meaningful manifestations.  so to understand where love and art coincide, to do so for love and by so doing and also having the Gift, sharing the gift!  pigs who think that petrol is ok and tolerable and who also refuse to come up with and push forward better things,  they are in a way in the evolutionary toilet. they are not really artists, there,  and i have told her as much.  i don't want to be on her show!  because at your warehouse party, i don't HAVE to say fuckety fuck fuck fuck fuck, because i CAN say it into your microphone, and no one is there  to tell me it's bad. even ivan stang has to put bleeps into the college show.  of some slack, though, ne? but on the street? all i can do is thank you for being the superb model that you are, i learned to animate practicing with your images. i have been lacing together analog and digital equipment for years. believe me when i tell you that Christos of the design outlaws dot org is waiting for me to request more think tank people so that we can put together the analog digital machines...that will be what put pcs and macs firmly in the beginning, proto, that was then era of making music in our way.  a casio!  a casio computer that surfs the net with a cassette tape loop inside it, built in a factory by people who enjoy it and don't feel like slaves. Design Outlaws on the Ecological Frontier: 400 pages, 8" x 10", with 15 illustrations & 225 photographs. Published by Knossus Publishers. ©2000 all rights reserved. $22.00. To order by credit card, call: 1-800-639-4099, or click here to order online with check/money order or via PayPal. For more information, click here. Ecological Design: Inventing the Future, ©1994, 64 minutes. Documentary video from The Ecological Design Project. $35.00. To order by credit card, call: 1-800-639-4099, or click here to order online with check/money order or via PayPal. For more information, click here. and of course, that way i have the things i need to do what i learned how to do when i was just sketching. because the Apple was and is a great original machine, and Jobs was a fucking snake who ate himself. this is why Joan Baez -- ah, well, he chose big capitalism over a life with Joan Baez.  for which i view him as emotionally stupid and quite western.  someone else could have done things and he could have helped Joan Baez make the world that all three of us want, instead of making tiny bullet guidance systems for better murder. i have thought that through because Fuller and by extension, Christos have thought that through. how aquarian of me, right? it's all about just accepting OTHER people's perceptual grids and walking across them while being free of the need for much of one's own besides, a skeleton, blood stream, nerves... and this little guy  right here, you know, our children deserve this cleaner air, and you know this as well as i do. christos is just realistic enough to figure out how we can  vent the yellowstone caldera and save the energy to power surrounding cities -- so now the whole world has to figger out how to out think oil lobbyists, who are zealously evil and compulsively in denial. that's what zero  point means, b!  their world is coming  to an end, their epoch,  their aeon, etc. in arizona i will be able to keep my chops up and also see the Thunder Bird at night. you can see her in this image.  i would not have noticed without this photo of flagstaff we are it, we are fnord, we are the only surrealists to speak of. man ray and dali were not denying their own greatness out of false humility, that form of actual arrogance. which is what i love about Chelsea, she gives herself a qualifier -- borderline -- to soften the implication that would come with the completion -- amazing --  now of course there is this thing with Barbera, the astrologer who you have read, her SPECTACULAR "agenda" and so you have to be a picture in several magazines all the time, and this one which is currently set to jam up everyone's Kindles...there are no real rock stars like there were before morons allowed american radio to die out of arrogant stupidity. which i mentioned.  right? ha ha ha, clear channel, napster.  "bjork has never had any huts," ha ha ha... so anyway, so WHAT if they envy us... they get so much love and throw it away in insecurity it's not sustainable. heh. i'm gonna go put that in my pipe and, well, huff it...

(anarchists only.)

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Permalink Reply by Marques De Valia on October 30, 2011 at 10:44am

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