the Fire

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8G9SozS4pBY&t=23s

Man-tears for Adam.

Let's just take a break and talk about this: How fucking tired aren't we all of the man confessing his sins and getting a gold star? Don't get me wrong, I love some self insight in a man but come on, women self examine every single day, publicly, with far more accuracy but much like the man who "only gives compliments when you least expect it" (meaning when you don't need it and it's really just an exercise of power) the man who accurately describes his behaviour gets pandered to like our lives depend on it. Which it does! Because if he doesn't stop the world with his amazing intellect he will withdraw into the metaphorical man cave. He had no plans of changing anyway. How are our lives so shit that the mere promise of a man "trying" to change, just the one(!!), makes us drop everything and rush to praise him? That's what you're really getting. But I suppose that's all you ever really wanted because that doesn't require any of that hard emotional labour that is being a decent person, you can just jog on, being "your self". And another day of misogyny can pass by.

*Inspired by the hipster who finally got to confess his violence against women on national TV and "regretting it so much" that he will try to stop.* 

Adam

One single man tear runs slowly down one cheek in a dark but still extremely sharp picture on an hd TV.

the Slummer

 

"What good does all the research 

of the Impressionists do them
when they never 

got the right person to stand near the tree 

when the sun sank"

"Slumming commenced with a curiosity to see the sights, 

and when it became fashionable to go 'slumming' 

ladies and gentlemen were induced to don common clothes 

and go out in the highways and 

byways to see people of whom

 they had heard, 

but of whom they were as ignorant as if they were inhabitants 

of a strange country."

 September 14, 1884

the Fallen Women

"We caught the tread of dancing feet,
We loitered down the moonlit street,
And stopped beneath the harlot's house. 

.

.

We watched the ghostly dancers spin
To sound of horn and violin,
Like black leaves wheeling in the wind.  

.

.

Sometimes a horrible marionette
Came out, and smoked its cigarette
Upon the steps like a live thing. 

Then, turning to my love, I said,
'The dead are dancing with the dead,
The dust is whirling with the dust.'

But she--she heard the violin,
And left my side, and entered in:
Love passed into the house of lust."

- the Harlot's House

 Oscar Wilde

the Street Musician

"The class of men in the street bands is, very generally,those who can't read music, but play by ear..."

Through cobbled streets so cold and damp
The Knocker-Upper man goes creeping
Tap-tapping at the window pane
To wake the town from sleeping.

He said “Eh thee up and stir thi'self
The factory ooter’s blowin’
So get up from your nice warm bed
To work you must be goin’”

Day in day out the year about
Though snow or rain are fallin
You’d hear his clogs along the street
You’d hear his voice a’callin’

- English folk song

the Pickpocket

"Picking pockets..is the daringest thing that a boy can do"

"The law demands that we atone
When we take things we do not own
But leaves the lords and ladies fine
Who takes things that are yours and mine.

The poor and wretched don’t escape
If they conspire the law to break;
This must be so but they endure
Those who conspire to make the law."

- the Goose and the Common