playing with hair_2

Tonight I’ll give up my love for you

To carry around such a thing has become a burden by my bedside

To go on unreciprocated is to die again and again

I can interpret your touch, you see

…And it isn’t one of insatiable need

I will no longer be the only fool in the room

I will no longer meander the streets in search of meaning

I will no longer live in shadows that only I can envision

You’ve made your choice and so have I

I can’t extract fibers from a heart that just isn’t there

Or more likely is hidden from view

My eyes were too wide and too willing to be taken advantage of

So, tonight I’ll just give up my love for you

Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.



The Ol’ Bat returned in the kitchen, ready to spill. I’m really not quite sure how she got in as I had been locking doors and drawing blinds methodically as of late, just as a precaution. Alarmed, I looked towards the window which had been jerry-rigged open with a bent fork and a large butcher knife. I sighed, I guess productivity will be hit with another major loss today. This was nothing new so per usual I accepted the dry toast, from her coat pocket, that got stuffed in my mouth. I rolled my eyes and waved her on.

“I haven’t the time for false pleasantries! I must tell you of this particular patch of dirt I have just traversed!”


“I caught Him down the side of a mountain, stunned and blind. His eyes were completely cataractal-“

I spat a bit of toast out, clearly I was consuming too many carbs.

“I thought He married Collarbones!” I was exhausted.

“He did, he did…Digression aside,” she continued, annoyed, “He was blind and fumbling around in that autumn foliage, waiting for someone to help him up.”

I asked if she did. She sighed.

“I thought about it for awhile but it turns out that I too was caught in autumn foliage, Dosey-Doein’ in the uprooted earth. I wanted to lick Him, I wanted to kick Him square in His bird mouth! Things started to get a little hazy and I realized my vision was steadily getting worse and worse. All at once, the sky collapsed on top of the trees and broke the damn troposphere. Stars started falling from every level and they burned upon exposed skin…”

Perhaps she was beginning to tell more interesting stories, perhaps I was just too tired to keep her away, but I actually asked her what happened next.

“Oh, I’m really not sure now. We’ll have to wait and see…”

I wanted to die.




Doesn’t your education lust for a refreshing change of pace? Someone, something outside of circles, patterns repeating, (miseducation – a lack of understanding)? Wouldn’t that just be too cute?! Someone, something that has no ties to anything, that has no clout, that has no influence over anyone or anything? Wouldn’t you just breathe at that, baby?


This guy was into the whole “Oriental thing” and he totally wanted it. I appreciated his height and the fact that he could probably pick me up and save me from a forest fire with ease but that was about it. Thrice after work I joined him and other co-workers for commiseration and drinks at the local dollar bar, (which were, of course, often one in the same). The conversation was beginning to become stale and wallets were thinning so I got nostalgic and puked in the bathroom. Later, I returned to my tiny apartment alone and manic.

We rarely speak now because I don’t feel like feigning interest, out of respect really. Occasionally I get bored and toss him a laugh for a joke that will go nowhere. For experimental purposes, to differentiate between the xx and xy chromosomes, I gathered a bucket of soapy water and stuck my hand in its warmth. The suds stuck to my hand quite effectively; I didn’t rinse them off. I walked through the hallway, past his cubicle, all the while ignoring him, letting my sudsy hand fall to my side, the other carrying the bucket. Like a waltz that no one was watching, he left his desk, pretending not to follow me, to get a drink at the water cooler. He paused in front of me, slowly sipping the liquid, his head tilted back towards the sky, sighed, and sauntered off. I laughed to myself because I was so much better at this game.

I took my break a few hours later and glued myself upon your pixels and preceded to die a slow and painful death.


mama, baby sarah, gram laughing


A co-worker once told me that it took the sickest, dirtiest jokes in order to get me to laugh, to crack a smile. I suppose in a sense she was right. This same co-worker also told me, on an unrelated occasion, that I reminded her of “an old style saloon worker, a Spanish whore” when I had leftover lip stain on my mouth and my hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. This was meant as a compliment; no, truly! I laughed pretty loudly at that, in a sort of nervous but appreciative manner. Unfortunately, I was self-conscious of my red mouth for the rest of the day.


I once knew this girl in middle school that was pretty and popular and always had a gaggle of friends. From where I stood she seemed to have it made. I knew she really didn’t because we both went to the same shitty public school in a dead town. Due to a “70s-open-concept-floor plan” we didn’t have any walls, just partitions and stained floors. Once a teacher failed a student. The student retaliated by throwing her into one of those partitions, collapsing it whole, causing a thundering BANG! This is the same place where one of my fellow classmates beat up our principal outside by the flagpole.

In any case, this adolescent beauty queen wasn’t perfect either and I’d find that out later when I heard her laugh. Her particular laugh was oddly nasally and as she threw her head back in that way that confident girls do, she always seemed to be on the verge of asphyxiation. Nearly choking on her own beads of saliva, she was always gasping for air. I may have been ugly but her laugh was hideous.


One time I was out in The Woods and decided I would enter a lit cabin. It looked approachable from the outside and I was young and curious so no harm, no foul. A man stood before a large painting of snakes, hyenas surrounding him, reading aloud from a long scroll. Distressed by his own words, and a secret code that he and the hyenas had had between them and that I was unaware of at the time, he began to chop his limbs off. Blood splattered unto the floor and the hyenas cackled. I, like an idiot without a following, was frozen and silently wet faced. One of the hyenas glued him back together and made their way outside, bits of him trailing behind them. Someone grabbed a bucket and a mop. Only when my own blood began to shed did I realize that the man was merely wearing a costume, for he was a hyena in his own right, cackling at me.


It was around Valentine’s Day and I was feeling weird. I bought myself a giant teddy bear at the local drugstore. My boyfriend, at the time, sighed (I STILL DON’T KNOW WHY). We got into his car and he started the engine. I made the bear do cute little dances and I gingerly touched its satin bow. I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed… My boyfriend said he was worried about me. I just thought he was being a little bit boring.


Sometimes people expect you to laugh, even need you to, but sometimes what they’ve just said or done doesn’t warrant that. In this case, you can nod, smile and say, “Yeah, that’s funny.” …And sometimes it really is funny but you don’t feel like laughing.


One time I went to check on my mother who was sleeping but not feeling well. I either scared or annoyed the cat sleeping beside her head and she ran across my mother’s face creating large, diagonal cuts on her cheek. I held her as she gasped and as a knee-jerk reaction started laughing uncontrollably. The situation was so odd and I was scared. My mother was confused and so was I. Not long after I cleaned the wounds and bandaged her up. Work at the grocery store the next day was interesting, to say the least.


We laugh when we should be crying. We cry when we should be laughing. We can’t force tears out when we want to and we can’t contain giggles when we need to.


I went to see monsters and superheroes with a friend and his daughter yesterday and I was not disappointed. I ended up carrying her tiny toddler body for the majority of the time and hope that some sort of muscle tissue will become of it. She waved to the crowd, had small temper tantrums, drank juice and created abstract body art on my neck with a ballpoint pen. In this moment in time I could feel my eyes aging and it felt normal. She extracted some of the most genuine laughter out of me in a long time and she didn’t even try.


If we ever meet again my first reaction will be to laugh, I think.

Break the fourth wall / You are more than your pixels allow you to be / Burn all the wires down in that shack that you’ve kept them in / Freedom is just a few inches away


More versions may see the light of your computer screen. 

Ol’ Bats in the Belfry Jillian

timmy pukes and wakes us up 10:22:2014

The old spinster-maid sat me atop the refrigerator and told me, “This is gonna be a while, for I am not a witch but a cat…”


My face contorted awkwardly in confusion due to my misaligned jaw. She waved it off and continued.


“…And that’s most likely the problem! Y’see, my autumn of discontent bears a striking resemblance to wires getting crossed and sparking against each other from time to time and then eventually breaking down the whole motherboard.”


She wasn’t making a lick of sense but I stayed because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I noticed she really didn’t have any thumbs.


“For whatever reason, I had quite the visceral reaction to His leaving. I dry heaved in the bathtub for what seemed like an hour and a half but I didn’t cry none, because that was beneath me – “


I wanted to intercept but she fed me a piece of dry toast to keep my lips from moving.


“A year passed and He came back into town. I wanted to introduce myself but I had lost all the confidence I had momentarily maintained in my early twenties. He spat on me, called me a slut, and walked away!”


I stopped eating the toast and looked up at her. Images and texts were starting to perform an unwieldy dance in my head and I wasn’t sure if they were appropriate for the occasion but were nonetheless entertaining.


“The crazy thing was we had no idea what each other looked like! We were just figments of each other’s imagination!”


I wanted to scream. I wanted to get down. This woman would be the death of me, I was sure of it. Boredom alone could kill all of her hanging plants. I tried to wrap my head around the semantics of what she had just said for a moment but then thought the better of it.


“He went on to marry some redhead with more presentable draping…”

“Collarbones?” I asked.

“Oh sure,” she said looking down at her fat knees, as she cut a potato.


A silence lingered for a bit and thinking that meant an end to her stories, I started to slip down. Startled by its reprisal, I froze.


“All in all, it was good fun I suppose. Responding to ghosts made me think, kept me motivated,” she sighed.


I sighed too. I just wanted another piece of toast.


“But you can’t touch the air between your fingers and you can’t keep it caged like a beast neither, it’d just bite your hand anyway.”


She lifted me off the refrigerator and gently put me down on the floor. I went to bed and tried to forget ever meeting her.


I’ve been up all night, trying to get lucky! :-/ Experimental video made exclusively for Video! Video! EP:3 Video Dating, October 2014




I had a dream and we were in it. I went downstairs and found you in the kitchen, talking on a house phone, the old wire cord getting wrapped around you. Suddenly you lost your train of thought in the conversation as we made eye contact. I came to you and gave you a hug. You embraced me warmly and wouldn’t let go, the phone still preoccupying your ear.

“Uh, do you want to come upstairs and see my cat?” you asked, keeping the transmitter away from your mouth.

I answered in the affirmative and walked towards the living room, as you tried to wrap things up on the other end of the line. My mother was on the couch and asked me where I was going.

“Upstairs…his uh, cat died. I’m going to see his dead cat,” was all I could muster on short notice.

I proceeded to collect my belongings, collect myself. I went upstairs. You met me there.

10/18/2014 8:45AM

BABYSHAKES (exposed)


“I fear I’ve just made too much eye contact with a prepubescent boy.” 


I want to be a living, visual representation of the things I think and feel. I want to free myself from burdens passed down, delivered, ingrown, harvested and collected. Up is down and left is medium. Art continues to make me its bitch. 9/3/2014 11:42PM

Call it A Lively Experiment 

Watch me manipulate myself into thinking otherwise… 

Being typecast as The Victim is oh so boring

XOXO, BabyShakes


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