B is for Rise of the Ex

Bed sheets breed contempt

And with every moan

Comes the groan

Of the familiar

Still,

Better to be with her than with out.

For when hands twine like vines

We become organic.

And when the sweat clears

And the giggles start…

We become orgasmic.

And the shadow of the doubt disappears

In favour of hope

Because this time

THIS TIME

The work will be worth it.

And the knowing will run past body parts and touch hearts

Rise of the Ex

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W.A.T. PRESENTS: Till The Tank Runs Dry

A few shots on the road. Stock video. Free library music. And a narration by Ayodhya Ouditt. Here's a short piece of something, "Till The Tank Runs Dry" [because with no budget comes great responsibility]. Take it in. Be Well. #wearetracy #wearetracyfilms

B is for SideBar

i was going to talk about morality today. as in "whose morality do you subscribe to?" it was going to be deep if i say so myself. however, instead i will speak about requisitioning wombs . yes that's right... wombs . i was having a conversation with a girl who [i admit] i still go gaga over [cue the "paparazzi" audio clip]. we were talking about how stupid humanity had become and whether there was a point to saving them. "saving" in the sense of helping-them-expand-their-mental-space-just-a-smidgen-more kind of saving. she believed this exercise was futile and proclaimed that instead of trying to save this "dead-out" (my term not hers) generation, she was going to have kids. a means of passing on valuable information about culture and forward thinking and such. i laughed of course but she had a real point. i too have felt that this current landscape is all... dead-out, but never really saw procreation as a means of rebooting the system if...

B is for Stealing

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