Tangerine Hues

They say life carries on and you shouldn’t waste time hanging on to a past that can’t be changed. 

I’m conditioning the knots from my hair as we soak in berry blush scented bathwater, washing the chaos from our skin. He watches me, whilst smoking a cigarette, behind an immaculate face and amorous gaze. He compliments my complexion and peach coloured lips. Ash on the lino, tangerine hues, mist in the air and stories of the day he saw Melbourne’s skyline. Not in a moment like this did I ever ask, how did we get here? Devoured by desire and consumed with lust, I’ll enchant like Delilah, the best lay his ever had and will ever want. I’m not his harlot, I’m his paramour, forever in the crest of adulation.

This was the first time Johnny ever held me underwater, to see if I could breathe.

It only took two minutes before I started to drowned. My hands gripping the side of the tub, as water rushes into my lungs, he’d stared at me emotionless, as I struggled to come up for air. He had finally stumbled upon a girl who could handle asphyxiation. When he pulled me up, I began choking. Any water that I had swallowed was pushed out from my lungs and I gasp for air. With a sadistic smile on his face and pleasure looming in his eyes, I couldn’t help but feel somewhat pleased with myself, that I was able to give him this deranged happiness. We tried it again. I lasted a few seconds longer this time, before drowning, he cracked up with amusement. He no longer had to worry about me jumping off mountaintops, or being alone in bathrooms, he knew it was now harmless to me. As was he. He introduced me to ropes and chains, and his fragile little lass became a ragdoll. When I dressed up, it was even better. Lingerie was his favourite. I had soon acquired quite an array of garments. I was always happy to rush home with that pretty little bag in hand, the one with the red and black tissue paper and the shoeboxes that came in leopard print and leopard print bows. He was always excited to watch my little show as I’d undress and sometimes not undress that much at all.

Blinded By The Sickness

Journal Entry - 12th November 2009 

Well, it's been a while since I've visited you, little box. My restricted little box, filled to brim with whirlwind thoughts and kaleidescope emotions. I've hid this part of me from the world for quite sometime, i heard it was bad for me. I heard letting everyone into the vulnerable beating center, gets you scars. It opens you up to all sorts of breakage, mainly into thousands of little pieces that take days, weeks, even months to put back together. 

I got quite good at this game, that smile, not taking what you say so personally. It made me more able to sleep better at night. 

I kept my secrets and played this game so good, i found how easy it was to fool people, manipulate them and make them think they were the ones in control. And like a cold heartless bitch, just like you taught me, i watched them and caught them in my trap. 

I ended up broken, torn between bionic, metallic, monster and my soul...
I tried to convince myself 'THEY HAD A CHOICE'. They choose to follow, to worship, they choose to be manipulated and trapped. They choose this and I did not force them to do anything.  

And he knows who he is. He nurtured me. The secrets once drove me insane, the lies I had to tell toyed with my conscience. 

"Who's that girl?" he asked me once. "Who is she? I can't keep up with these persona's" even though he was the one who programmed them into me.

Moulded me like a sculpture and branded me like a cow.

Yet he was my muse and I depended on him. He made it impossible for me to live without him, plaguing my mind with night terrors and day terrors, terror from mild to spicy with hot and cold sweats. My shaking palm being the last of the fragments to run through my veins. No longer crimson, but black, tarred. Even the protection and the truth he offered me, after I called his bluff wasn't enough to help me sleep through those darkest hours.

'11minutes32seconds'.

Hell, did he try.

 "For what is protection when you are not here, instead you lurk in the shadows."

The endless back and fourth conversations we'd have, "Come with me, let me take you away from here. There's a place where we can be happy, together, at last. Just like it should have always been."   

My replies always being the same.

"I cannot, not now. You had your chance to take me away from here, but you said it was better if I'd stayed. You said it was dangerous. You told me it would work out fine and now, now, you say that was all a mistake? Was what you promised me all a lie? Was there ever any truth?

  Now I have to watch my back when we could have been far way from here by now.

Spending Sundays bathing in that Victorian bathtub and afternoons lazing in the sun in that lavender field. That world, that life, is all but a memory from now."

And with charming smiles and a casual light of his cigarette, he caresses my cheek and replies in a Brooklyn Queens accent, "I'd have soaked them sun rays up for you baby, as long as you'd lay besides me during slumber, as the moonlight seeped through the window pane and healed me. I promise to make it up to you; I earned some money doing a dirty deed today, let me take you out for heart shaped pizza under a luna lit parade?"

My eyes wept you came back for me and was willing to try again [I found you] and now a new game we play.

Played so dangerously to the edge I could taste the fear.

♥

Choices.

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that?

The Tango.

“What about or train wreck Johnny, you remember that song you wrote, where our loves apocalyptic, the one with the Jack, the fight, the makeup sex. More than we wanted? The one where life lies beneath? The one where you say, how I like it, how it’s explosive, how you’re addicted, how you search far and wide for something to die for... yet when you found it, you didn’t die you suffered, it cut you and the bleeding never dries, it just drains you...forever? If I remember rightly, Johnny Wayward, that song went to number one, so if our loves not entertainment, I don’t know what is.” 

Porcelain Couture... Coming Soon

xo<3 Tink

What I've been Reading... 

Porcelain Couture Quotes

‎"We are like the common tansy 

amongst the perfectly primed rose bushes..." xo♥

What I Am Listening To... 

The Blur...

My journal became a thing of the past in the recent year that has now gone by, and got replaced by the status update. I can't remember very much of this year, it's extremely fragmented, due to the numbing the pain season via opium induced dreams, I feel like I’ve been completely comatose. You know when you were a little girl, and you used to get up in the middle of the night to binge and purge, getting your fix is the same; same porcelain tiles, same wretch over the toilet, the stomach cramps, the back pain... Your dirty fucking secret. Although this blog post isn’t about pain killer addition, like the ‘binge and purge’. Ana was not my friend, and neither was Opey.

You are cordially invited to take a drive up the long winding country road, until you pass that sign that says "Welcome To Blossom Valley, please drive carefully" Missing the small print, "One way in, no way out." As your eyes gaze upon the sign that says, "Fresh produce! Please make sure you try our Blossom Valley Spring Water, filtered by our very own mountains!" You're taken back by the beauty,  Turning to your loved ones and saying "This looks like it would be a lovely place to live!" winding down your window and smelling the fresh cut grass air... we hope you enjoy the show, since all the world is a stage, because we plan to entertain and bring some amusement to your pretty minds! It's going to be bloody glorious! [No pun intended] Thirst was quenched with tea and eyes were deprived of sleep, but this is the way we do it in Blossom Valley!

Warning: No mentally ill females were exploited during the making of this book. All characters and story lines are completely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is simply coincidence.Porcelain Couture Coming Soon & It Will Be BLOODY Intense! 

Porcelain Couture...Coming Soon.

Sweet Dreams Sugar xo<3 

[Your thunder beats through the sky...

And the lightening bolt is pretty against the colour of

the lavender field where we used to play.]

Coming Soon.

Hey Dolls, doing loads of work to get together websites and such, but in the meantime:

Porcelain Couture On Facebook


xo<3