Colleen I. Thompson - ProfilesArchive

About Me

I could keep it gathered, but its all scattered and everything comes in and clings. I'm wearing fleece in the grass and rolling and collecting and the grass is so lovely so I eat it and bleat and bleat. This is another morning, in the finite succession of my mornings, and I am doing the same things that I always do, so that I don't have to think about what I'm doing and I can worry about what to do next or what I did yesterday. I feel like I can give pristine advice and it flows from another source, but I cannot dispense it to myself, for it requires a well-formed question and all of my questions are vague and essentially ask the same thing. And if I answered that question I would cease to roll in the grass and bleat and all of the fleece would disappear and the grass would lose its relevence.

My Interests

The Future.

I'd like to meet:

Help.

Music:

Seagulls at five am.

Movies:

There will be four movies made by love.

Television:

Never Again.

Books:

food of the gods bhagavad gita steppenwolf slaughterhouse five the idiot notes from underground glass bead game archaic revival cosmic memory the mass psychology of fascism the outsider and four books from the future

Heroes:

I live in a cave with soft ground and unformed peoples.

My Blog

Time kills.

Time kills. Fuck Time. Oh, my love, my darling,I've hungered for your toucha long, lonely time.And time goes by so slowlyand time can do so much,are you still mine?I need your love,I need your...
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Fri, 02 Nov 2007 10:06:00 PST

Snake Food

My mind is a scorpion. I am a snake. We are a snake. We are a snake swallowing scorpions.
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Tue, 02 Oct 2007 06:28:00 PST

The Creative Process

The migraine teeth of grinding face beneath head beneath pillow into mattress, And foreign rythymic fist into mattress, And face grinding spit into fabric. Living lustfully into tragedy into frustrati...
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Mon, 20 Aug 2007 09:51:00 PST

Success!

Too bad for me, Being madly in love and all, As I have realised, That my only chance for survival, Financially at least, Is in a future career, As a wealthy older creative/mascochistic gentleman's, Ne...
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Tue, 31 Jul 2007 10:27:00 PST

Kill Yourself Slow

Smoking kills yourself, Stop to think before you try to kill yourself, Over the period of thirty years or so, Don't be so rebellious, Don't go trying to kill yourself so slow. Maybe don't listen like ...
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Tue, 31 Jul 2007 10:13:00 PST

Hissing Fist

Hiss the welcome shit, The planes we've missed, The heartless kiss. And when the day is cold and brisk, We hold hands we walk through this. If I were wrong I may clench a fist, And f...
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Thu, 19 Jul 2007 10:19:00 PST

What is REALITY Colleen?

Reality is a wet blanket. You live in the wet blanket and it comforts you with its weight. But it makes you wet, this blanket and eventually chilled to the bone. And your skin becomes pruney and wrink...
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Fri, 13 Jul 2007 08:57:00 PST

On Being a Passive Baby

Being polite is for wimps and robots and me. Talking sweet and softly, for nuns and kindergarten teachers and weirdos and me. I am such a passive loser. Being passive is for babies. I'm just a loser b...
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Sun, 29 Apr 2007 07:16:00 PST

GIVE ME FUCK IN THE MOUTH

GIVE ME FUCK IN THE MOUTH TAKE ME OVER COME ON OVER TO MY HOUSE GIVE ME YOUR LOVE AGAINST MY TEETH GIVE ME THE FUCK FACE FEAST YOU FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK THE MOUTH POUND GAG POUND GAG POUND ...
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Sat, 14 Apr 2007 09:31:00 PST

I love Frank.

Frank Sinatra is a prince to me. It's Saturday morning it's raining sweetly outside, the light in my apartment is silver and I'm mildly sleepy and warmly twitterpated. Its spring and there are blossom...
Posted by Colleen I. Thompson on Sat, 24 Mar 2007 12:44:00 PST