Saturday, 31 March 2012
Crash | Acne Cocoon Jacket
I ran. I stumbled. I fell.
I crashed
Into the glass walls that deceived me.
My rubber boots wobbling around my feet,
My hands blindly grabbing.
Sister laughed at me,
She made faces at me through the transparency.
Her long hair the same colour as mine:
Golden like the sunny sun sun.
I am a shiny sun son.
The shiny sun son's mom
Is radiantly wrinkly
In her bright orange jacket.
And as I run and stumble and fall,
I crash into her.
(photo via AnOthermag.com)
Wednesday, 28 March 2012
He Said/She Said | Daniel Vosovic Fall '12 Collection
'I'm sorry,' he said.
'I know,' she said.
The glass started fogging from their heated breaths and she started to cry. She pressed her face to the window and her tears drew paths in the flat mist. No matter how she pounded and grabbed or clawed at the glass, it wouldn't break or even soften to just let her touch him. His voice was soft in her ear, she could barely hear him. The phone was slipping through her fingers. She kept breathing heavily, almost panting; her heart was beating too hard for her to handle.
He watched her with droopy eyes, swollen from crying in the night. Gulp after gulp, he tried to swallow the regret, but it was forever stuck in his throat. He knew she wouldn't forgive him for what he did, and there was no way she could wait that long.
As her sobs ceased she leveled herself with him. She put a firm grip around the phone and whispered sharply into it, eyeing his quivering lips.
'I'm coming after you,' she said.
'I know,' he said.
(photo via AnOthermag.com)
Sunday, 25 March 2012
Mine | Etro Abstract Tiered Necklace
I'm going to eat you.
Shovel you into my mouth
And devour you.
I will grit my teeth.
They will grind you into pieces
Then you will fall.
Deep down the pit
Dug in my neck,
You will die.
Sizzle,
Sizzle,
Sizzle.
Don't get me wrong, monster,
Your world is not mine.
But my world is not yours.
(photo via Net-A-Porter.com)
Sunday, 18 March 2012
You/Me | Hermione de Paula
All the long years of our lives we've suffered together in utter jollity. We've faced countless strokes of darkness and defeated the monsters within us that create them. My bones shake and ache from the distance between us; I can reach you but never touch you. Your laughter fades in my memory. There are no letters that can bear your spirit enough to satisfy me. And so I sit here, brimming with nostalgia of the foggy past-the two of us going nowhere hand in hand, but refusing to let go when our owners pull us away. I cannot be free without you. You live within me. You stained my soul. And when we die, we die together. The world can burn from the sparks of our friendship, and those who destroy must become those who rebuild. And we, the destroyers of selves must return to our own bodies.
(photo via AnOthermag.com)
Saturday, 17 March 2012
Rush | Rosamosario Lara's Flower Beach in St Tropez Swimsuit
There she laid, basking in the sun's rays. The oil on her skin glistening; twinkling sparks dancing on her back. Her love handles jiggled cutely as she moved to retrieve her book from her bag. Flipping through the pages, she found the last pit stop in her mindful adventure and slinked off into more mystery. She bit her bottom lip and my blood rushed. Her hair was messily propped at the back of her head, exposing the sleekly sweet nape of her neck, and without permission my eyes groped the contours of her body. I could feel my fingers twitching. Sand trickled over the back of her thighs as she steadily kicked her heels in the air. Her hips raised as she adjusted herself, and my feet leapt out from under me. She turned and smiled, barely wording "Hi love," as I fell on her and let my passion run through.
(photo via Net-A-Porter.com)
Tuesday, 13 March 2012
Take Me | Hixsept Ann T-Shirt
And in the crack of dawn she woke. Raising her arms above her head, leaping up from the bed, her husband's shirt drooping over her small shoulders, just covering her sex. Onto the ladder she stepped, and she climbed. She climbed until she reached the ceiling, then she climbed through the ceiling, and passed through her neighbor's kitchen. Her feet edged off each step of the ladder gracefully, never slipping off, her toes always firm in their grasp. Splinters caught in her hands, but she ignored them all. Through the roof she climbed and up into the orange blue. The ice stung her cheeks, but she ignored them too. And then, finally, she saw him, reaching down to grab her hand. She took it. She took his shirt and returned it to him. He took it. He took her hand and tossed the shirt back down. It waved goodbye and swayed down until it twisted in a heap on their bed. And at last, they took their naked bodies away, joining the world as they slept on the clouds.
(photo via AnOthermag.com)
Chalk | Model in Ana Locking Spring 2012
He sat atop the hill that overlooked the village and the fields from which they grew their food. The wind kindly swept his hair over his right shoulder as he faced the land before him. Flowers were blooming in random patches on the hill at the call of spring. Beside him were a small bed of baby's breath. Their petals felt small and smooth between his fingers; fragile also.
He could hear the villagers shouting. It was a cacophony full of squabbles; utters of nonsense and gibberish he couldn't really understand. After all, he was young-his face bereft of experience and his bones still stretching his skin.
He dug his fingers into the earth between his legs, sifting through the dirt and the rocks and the worms. In the afternoon sun, he could feel the heat radiating from the ground beneath him as his fingers journeyed through the grass. The wind whispered the tales of the quiet as it penetrated his ears.
He lay sprawled on his back facing the sun. He reached his hands up, shaking those of the ghosts that traveled on the tails of invisible beasts. And he continued staring up at the sun, with cloudy eyes that felt no pain save for the eternal slap of a blackboard, to which he had no chalk.
(photo via Facebook.com)
Saturday, 10 March 2012
Junk | Ludevine Ammonite Pendant
"Ray! Over here!" Hugo shouted over to the shaggy-haired professor. As Hugo looked up at him, Ray's stern disposition seemed to disappear for a moment as the rising sun behind him softened his features. But once he went down from the surface of the crater and walked towards the crouching Hugo, all hopes for friendliness were dashed as he stared critically down at what Hugo held in his hands.
"What is it?" he asked, in that deep, raspy voice only men who've had enough experience with the real world could summon. Hugo continued brushing dirt off the specimen as he responded that he wasn't sure. He turned it over and over with his fingers, intrigued at the survival of such a small orb-like object. The bomb should have vaporized everything within that crater.
As Ray reached to take it from him, Hugo swiftly aided its escape. "Oh no, Ray, this one's mine," he said. Then like children they grappled for it until finally Hugo, whose build was indeed bigger than Ray's, extended his arm and shoved Ray's face away with his palm. Ray's meager attempts to even reach Hugo's torso were futile.
After cleaning the orb-ish thing on his shirt, Hugo tossed it in the air and tucked it deep into the pocket of his trousers. Ray regained his composure by lighting his pipe tobacco and puffing away without a care. They packed up their equipment and went back to the mansion.
The mansion was built by their great grandfather and it was as sturdy as all the men in their family, without hinting at any means of compensation, for if you met any of them, you would know instantly that the respect they demanded was the respect they deserved. Hugo took the thing out of his pocket and placed it in a glass jar that was almost full with other bits and bobbles. He smiled at his accomplishment. Then he looked over at Ray's collection and shook his head with a small laugh. Being the older brother meant that Ray still had an edge over Hugo.
"The more junk we collect, the more this place is just gonna end up a dump." Ray remarked. Their desire to create the perfect bomb was always met with something that seemed to survive. But in order to save the people of the world from the demise of their own doings, they had to make it such that no residue was left.
"Well, once we get it right, the dumps will all just disappear," Hugo said. "Shall we continue?" he asked, turning to Ray's smoky figure. Ray emerged and dumped the burnt tobacco in a rusty metal vase. Without replying, he sought his books and put his goggles on. The side of Hugo's lips twitched as he, too, put on his goggles and reassembled his equipment.
(photo via Ludevine.com)
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