Portraits

[kulla]

the chef

his eyes, expecting the song, tarantino's song, were cheerful, happy, glorious at the thought of singing it to the mysterious costumer, who always wore black. his eyes were sad too, sad because he couldn't learn it, no matter how many times I sang it to him, no matter how hard I tried. so, instead, he started singing it in his own words, improvised as he was cooking the ever boring arrabiata. bang bang!

[kulla]

the lover

of darkness, there shall be light; of chaos, there shall be order; of the vast sands of the desserts, there shall be life; of the incomprehensible terrors and horrors of eternity, there shall be but a glimpse, a claustrophobic glimpse from the prison of the body, so that souls can taste another form of existence. the light, the order, the life, the glimpse, are all locked in your eyes when I look at them.

[kulla]

the mute

his mouth is bloody, his eyes are scared, his ears are echoing the mute rumble of an expanding universe, his nostrils are open, breathing in panick, his hands are shaking. in front of him stands the sweet punisher, naked, smelling of the sex they just had. somewhere, unseen, a newly crowned king awaits the news of a newly cut tongue.

[bebushe]

u got a sharp mouth ,
fantastik

[kulla]

the immortal, the possesed, ismail kadare and a selfportrait

my portraits are influenced by his brushstrokes like knifethrusts. his name is borges. his mind is open. through his mind enters an immortal into his body. he is possesed now, possesed with the existence of homer. homer is borges, borges is homer, and yet, neither one, nor the other, or even both of them with their power combined, cannot fight blindness. from affar, kadare mocks their impotence of the eyes, afraid that he might lose his. his name is kulla. his mind is open.

[katana]

ur standing too close to the screen. you'll ruin/lose your eyes that way.

don't make me come over there mr. Kula.

[katana]

for about 8 weeks. she can't look at her own face with out conjuring up what hers would look like. resolved on a name though doesn't refer to her by it. she now understands what you might have meant by 'our bodies are vessels'. her body is a vessel. that, you, my dear, may never come to experience. just as well!

[katana]

in the morning, as she dreams up a dream about having gone over to emimems house to borrow a mix CD of Albanian songs and getting hit with a baseball bat on the head by his 17 year old Albanian girlfriend, she gave a twitch and a slight moan to correspond with her scream in the dream.
it made her think of how women all over will now be using Beatrix's excuse to get out of a fight. its a good one! ill use it some day.

[R2T]

The cockroach

Rummaging through leftovers, feet sinking in scum, antennae elevating the sense of smell, brain working on a different wave length. Scanning the gypsy-type environment, for what elsewhere is not needed. Hiding behind the pile of deposits, escaping the eager stomp, surviving an extremely hostile place, as if made by titanium composite covers. Ahhhh ,the life of a cockroach, dirty, nasty, and absolutely enchanting.

[*~Rexhina~*]

looooool "and absolutely enchanting" :D

shume interesante kjo teme, keep it up!