At PULP we love
PLACES!
Alpha widowed and exiled from a dream. Siberian winter delirium, or maybe just mold poisoning.
If the year is 2226, and technological imagination has realised itself, and my clone in cryosleep is waiting, eyes closed, for a project of my selfhood to populate her soul, what would it contain?
Let me elucidate: I know I shouldn’t be so comfortable sitting right up against strangers on the bus.
The museum sits adjacent to the oval which, since 1947, has carried Bradman’s name, and where, at age 12, Bradman played his first game of senior cricket for Bowral Cricket Club.
It is dangerous, to choke out their dreams in dirty water.
It is this closeness that makes Kantara so difficult to situate within the familiar stories of Indian cinema, where religion is often rendered as something aestheticised and made legible for a broad audience.
My following applauds, “found footage of griffins” and “me at the Shambhala store”, and that “the scallion is the best-known symbol of beauty and love”.
I stood in the kitchen again, above the spotless countertop.
Sick of modern dating? Feeling as though you were “born in the wrong generation”? Perhaps the love of your life is waiting for you in a different time period!
Threaded through one is a strip of red satin, its loose ends unravelling, dragging on the floor below.
I am worried that we could lose and even more worried that the game will only get to day three.
Ambling past the suburban garden, I am content, my eyes feast on the green hedges and the glow of tall-reaching grass in the sun.
This series reflects a fear of facing global issues. The luxuries of my world here in Sydney depend on the work of someone else's hands, and then I make collages, from a shallow pool of helpless empathy.
Instead, the Sydney youth night culture gravitates towards Newtown, popular with queer 20-somethings and teens.
Could the relevant Christina please return to collect their notebook…
Or maybe it’s not the fact of ‘gayness’ itself that’s cool, but the cultural cachet earned from having gay people in your social circle, however tenuous or protracted that proximity might be?
The noise of the alarm is screeching. It's insistent, it’s ringing louder than my voice. Somebody else has to hear it. Someone has to find me.
In primary school I had a project on endangered animals. I chose the butterfly fish and made him the star of my live-action film.
My dance with the Pink Masked Woman was my access point into a side of my feminine that had been curled into a ball, rolling from place to place.
Through the settling rubble, an epic collage of pop singer-songwriting opus, Taylor Swift, chimes in and is unphased.
They say snakes are an evolutionary asset to human beings.
“I hated my old job. I was holed up in an office, and all of the people I worked with only talked about work. Work work work. I hated it.”
Borrowed rods balanced between our fingers, lines disappearing into the dark like quiet questions.
Today, I have woken up in a woman’s body. I have yet to learn to use it.
So when I find my mouth drying up, when I want to substitute the sun for an egg yolk in the sky, I count it time to get to nature.