>no one can help her fight crying, crying, she couldn’t afford the view; crying, crying, these automatic flowers won’t do
>sorry for long silence…took a daytrip to Canterbury, and then spent the weekend in Maribor, Slovenia. details to be divulged through the photos:
This is the gate to the Christ Church (aka Canterbury Church) from Chaucer’s famed tales. The Gate dates back to Medieval times…haha, I just said Medieval times…what i thought was interesting was that the huge figure of Jesus in the centre…looks like he’s got gangrene over his entire body.
The ancient church, been looking like this since te 1300s
the door to the Cloisters in light
the door to the Cloisters in darkness
in the Crypt, on the ceiling, were these ancient wall paintings, fading and chipped…but still glowing for 1000 years.
i looked up at the paintings, knowing that they used to glow upon dead bodies
they used to glow upon the judgement and wrath of the clergy…how the church has burned and hung heros and revolutionaries…and these flat eyes say it all
still…the paintings are pretty kickass.
Canterbury looks like this everywhere you go…in the background, that’s the Westgate Tower, one of the ancient entrances to the originally walled city.
inside the church, everything looks like it’s aflame with the fires of hell
religion is the root of all evil
this was outside the Marlowe theatre…i just liked the look of it.
the ceiling of the church…hundreds of feet up
across the street from the Marlowe theatre, in the window of someone’s home, i saw this little wooden figurine of two lovers. almost started crying at it’s beauty
the nave of the church…
a single candle rests where the altar to Thomas Beckett used to be before King Henry VIII dismantled it in the reformation…give me a fucking break.
okay, it looks kinda pretty…
in the wall of the church, some dude in 1764 engraved his initials… so fucking cool!
and another..thomas cral in 1704 put in his name…300 years ago…so cool!
on the streets of canterbury, looking up at the doorways, some of the buildings are so ancient you’ll still see those creepy little guardians and gnomes put into the medieval architecture. this was a haggard looking titty-woman holding a skeleton baby.
and she rests under a former dispensing chemist…so creepy
it’s a sweets shop…named after my sweety.
on the coach bus home
i want out
okay, then i got home and got wrapped up in the idea of a self-portrait…
enough already chris
I thought it’d be nice to visit Slovenia for the weekend . . . instead, airport security thought i looked like a gal with a bomb in her bag (it’s called a hair dryer, you fuckers), and earlier a guy got bare-ass naked and started wanking right in front of me . . . good times
this centuries old church, tiny, sat at the top of the Kalvarija mountain that i climbed . . . it was while climbing this mountain that a nekkid cyclist started jerking off in an altar…stupid me, instead of running down the mountain, I RAN UP IT, like those dumb blonde girls in horror movies who always run inside the house instead of out of it….
a better view of the church… i’m an athiest…but i figured if i hung out here for a bit, no masturbating losers would attack me.
the view of maribor from the top of the kalvarija mountain….nice.
another shot of the city…okay i got carried away with panorama shots.
some of the quiet streets of alleys that dip and climb throughout maribor
some duckees…gotta love the duckees.
“shut up bitch, i’m plumming!”
this particular type of vine has been growing in maribor for over 400 years, so UNESCO has deemed it the oldest vine in the world…i think jerusalem and galilee are gonna have words with UNESCO after this…
me, out of breath, once i reached the top of the Piramida mountain overlooking maribor…i look retarded in this photo, yet for some reason have no problem uploading it on my blog for all the cyber world to see…
“love me or hate me, i still be”
i think after the masturbating asshole, that really ruined the rest of the weekend in slovenia for me. i didn’t do anything noteworthy other than climbing those mountains. in fact yesterday, i became a bit agoraphobic. i went out in the morning, bought one of the only english-language books i could find at the local bookshop, went back to my hotel room, and read the 300 page book, cover-to-cover, for 7 hours straight. stopping only to pee and snack.
i think what bothered me about this encounter wasn’t the fact that the guy was in the forest, jacking off while watching me, although that would be reason enough. what bothered me was my response.
my first thought was, “fucking loser. how annoying.”
in fact, i was just going to saunter by him and try to shoot him looks of annoyance to make him embarrassed by what he was doing.
not one thought to my safety. not in the first few moments anyway. the moments that matter.
as i approached the altar from the side, and couldn’t see what was happening within (plus had my headphones on so couldn’t hear anything either), he could have easily pounced on me and . . . you know how this sentence could end.
only when i realized then potential danger of the situation, i had moved past the altar and was running up a steep hill. i couldn’t go very fast, i was huffing and puffing to get to the top, and the forest path up the mountain was eerily deserted.
felt very blair witch.
and every twig snap, russle, bird cheep, made me jump and look over my shoulder.
if he had wanted to chase me, he could have easily caught me.
so i guess i’m pissed that i didn’t run in the opposite direction toward civilization, i ran into a dark forest like a nimrod.
my problem is that i’m not easily scared, even by dangerous situations. a couple years ago, i was present at a gun-fight in downtown toronto where 2 civilians were caught in the crossfire. and not once did i duck for cover, even though i heard bullets whizz by my ear.
i guess i just think bad stuff won’t ever happen to me. so my first instinct is nonchalence and indifference.
not very saavy.
he had a little cock anyway.