| This is a DETAIL. Click image for the full piece. |


Icicle Fire, for NicoI want to be kissed By your cold lips But you are too far awayIcicle Fire, for Nico
I want your nails Down my blackboard Put the chill back in my spine
Your icy warmth Stares back at me Lights my skeleton fire
Sing to me Through the blackness Hold me in your arms As I hold you in mine Return


Ghost TrainYou lured me inside With promise of catastrophe A hint of horror But all you had to offer Was the same,tired old rideGhost Train
I can take the sudden bends And the sharp inclines But why must we always ride Your ghost train?
Things jump out In the same tired old way There's nothing here that scares me I'll sit with you as we go round again
But baby Do we have to hold hands? I won't hold your hand On your ghost train


Where Angels GoI am drinking in shadow I am dying by the moonlight Where do angels go to die ?Where Angels Go
When it's all over When there's nothing left Where will we lay to rest ?
When my heart's too big to hold And we fit in this world no more Take me where angels go when they die


We GiveSome of us Are too alive We need Drink Drugs Depression That we may communicate with youWe Give
We give That others may live We hope you understand


Supermodel SuicideYour insect limbs Reach out to me No more Death's Swiss Army machete Has re-aligned your features Time's sweeping scythe Cannot be withheld By a surgeon's knife The void of your life Is now fullSupermodel Suicide
Your starvation symmetry Broadened my perspective Now I realise The pictures of famine Are for sexual arousal, Distended corpses In scraps of cloth The ultimate pornographic fashion show
I am told it is wrong To be thus turned on Is it better My object of desire Is a self-made corpse Willfully undernou
| More photos and snaps can be found at: http://www.ipernity.com/home/euchrid For most (but not all) of my photos, the dimensions correspond to the Golden Ratio, and key features/focal points of the photos are aligned to the Golden Spiral (similar to, but not identical to, the Fibonacci Spiral). The weird artist's comments under most of my pictures are purposefully weird, obtuse and Discordian (and yes, they do often look like spam). Random sentences are generated from a mash up of The Bible, The Necronomicon, Might Is Right, The Principia Discordia, The Satanic Bible, and, Steal This Book. It is up to you to decide whether to treat them as quotes, my genuine comments/opinions, Zen-like wisdom for a new religion, or some kind of weird art form in themselves. I never use Photoshop on my photos; only some home-made scripts and sometimes GIMP or Cinepaint. I compiled/edited the book Poodles in Hell: A Book of Spam, which you can buy/download/laugh at here: http://www.lulu.com/content/1073977 |
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"...we live in darkness, just out of their sight...in the sounds they cannot hear...in the colors they cannot see...where they are not...we are grey shadows across the boy's shirt...the racing clouds...the pools of darkness..."
- William S. Burroughs
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Holy slimfast, batman!!
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rebelling against meaningful art since 1992
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To thine own self be true -
W. Shakespeare
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"No uso drogas soy loco natural"
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"I have nothing to hide. Except my secrets." -NB
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