24.2.08 | dies Saturni

What did i do to get to here what do to escape from here how is anything possible do you remember as a child your days would drift on forever games lasting weeks so carefree so vibrant all colours and sounds and thrilling you were so unafraid back then the people seemed kind and the light seemed kind and the dark held shadows that you did not understand and you gazed deep into all things with a curious and enlivened mind.

That was part of the problem, really. Curiosity not only killed the cat, but danced upon the ruined corpse until all that remained was dried blood and a fine dust, easily washed away by the next rains.

Time wears me down, both body and soul. There are things i have done, both terrible and kind. Many things which i regret and deeds gone awry, even with the best of intentions. I don't know if i am a good person any more. I don't know if i can redress the balance in the time i have left or if there is even a God to pray to for help and inspiration. The Universe feels cold and empty. I don't understand humans.

I suddenly don't like that i allowed friends and family to see a blog like this. I am thinking of restricting access to only those people i invite to it. That, or destroying it or hiding it away or simply walking away from it all.

5 days and no-one would miss it. Not really. I'd like to do it in real life, too. Just walk away from it all, and forget the person i am, starting afresh in another town or another country with a fake passport or id... a complete nobody living out the remains of his life in seclusion and darkness. It feels like all i deserve.



  7:59 pm :. Blogger michele mania hollered thusly:

i feel like drifting into sleep while the breeze flutters around my face and gently rocks the hammock i am enveloped in

  10:24 pm :. Blogger my sun sets to rise again hollered thusly:

Take me where you're going if you're never coming back...

I could never let my family see anything I put on the internet. I'm too tightly bundled up as a habit to expose myself anywhere, but on here I'm much less and it's the last thing I want them to see.

  11:36 pm :. Blogger carlberry hollered thusly:

Does this mean I'm dumped ?

(Erm... I could probably have expressed that better.)

  3:50 am :. Blogger LiVEwiRe hollered thusly:

First, I love this: "Curiosity not only killed the cat, but danced upon the ruined corpse"

You wonder if you're still a good person; I wonder if I was ever one at all. I do understand the conflict and confusion involved.

I've never let anyone but unknowns read any of the stuff I've written. My family and friends do not deserve to know me in the free, anonymous way that you do. They know me in the way I choose to show them. Because of that self imposed restriction in 'real' life, I'd suffer greatly without the blog to vent, rant, ponder and suppose.

I always get a bit edgy when I read a post and it sounds too much like 'me'. Only because I think I get the level of intensity of what you are feeling and the confusion surrounding it. My email is on my profile page, should you choose to use it.

For what it's worth, I would miss you. In time we are all forgotten, but until that time came, I would miss you. Undoubtedly.


  5:31 pm :. Blogger Ginger Doll hollered thusly:

Livewire put it all so beautifully that all there is for me to add is that I've been here for so very long. You've seen the worst of me. You've seen me rage and scream and holler and you never turned away.

Five days you say. My pirate died three months ago and I still grieve for the lack of his presence when I log in. It is the same with you, my lovely boy, no matter how bad or how good you've been. It doesn't matter. You've been for me.

Jane xx

  5:24 am :. Blogger The Saturnyne hollered thusly:

MM: That sounds lovely.

MSSTRA: Tempting =)

CB: Hmm, lemme think about that one, hehe. Let me win at the next speed trivia quiz and i'll let you off for now.

LW: Awesome! What else can i say to a sweet and kind comment like that!?

GD! Aww, do you know Janey, you are now my oldest blog-friend? *hugs*


  6:13 am :. Blogger dr.v (Not a narcotic Pez dispenser) hollered thusly:

of course u are a "good" person.
the universe doesn't have to be a cold/empty place. I say..start fresh in a new country ;)

you deserve so much MORE!



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19.2.08 | Aspects of Desire

Desire is always cruel, it is said.

I was talking about the nature of Desire to a couple of friends the other evening. Remembering circumstances when you are wounded almost unto death, or so it feels...

You sit in your favourite bar/cafe/restaurant. If you are lucky, you are with considerate friends who are trying to console you, when your ex-girlfriend walks in. With her new man. You don't see her at first, but her laughter spills across the room, and your ears strain "was that...?"

Then you see her, and she's smiling and talking animatedly to her new man, wearing the same dress that night you first met... he touches her, little caresses on her arms... things like that. She sees you and your friends, acknowledges them when they walk by her, but doesn't register your presence at all. You quickly realize, bitterly, that this isn't about revenge... she simply doesn't care. She filled the hole you left in her life and now you're irrelevant to her. You're not even flirt-worthy material, unlike your best friends. You imagine that being pierced by many spears and arrows in 300 would hurt your chest less.

Your beautiful husband/boyfriend is sleeping with another woman. He openly acknowledges this to you, and even goes so far as to say how important the other woman is to his continued happiness. He's charming and witty still and even brings you flowers like they are going out of fashion.
But at night, when you have finished lovemaking, you weep silently into the pillow. He's all you have, and you are destroyed and made afresh by him every day.
One day, you finally find the courage to leave him, and suddenly it is he who is bereft and distraught, begging you to come back to him. It is far too late for that, however. You feel nothing.

He lives his life, endlessly pursuing women, eagerly seeking the next "conquest" or so his reputation would have you believe. It's more complicated than that, however. He is desperately looking for what he believes is love. Yet when his quarry finally succumbs to his charms and lays naked in the bed beside him, he feels... cheated. Disappointed. All the years of his life, he asks himself "Is this all there is?"



  2:52 am :. Blogger LiVEwiRe hollered thusly:

There are small pieces of me in each scenario. But most recently, I was the last one. And I made a promise to myself in a fit of, well, who really knows what it was. But the gods have seen fit for me to hold strong to it, even when I don't want to. Yes, desire is a slippery, messy thing, no matter where you stand. It takes on an even more peculiar meaning when desire is lost.

  4:27 am :. Blogger The Saturnyne hollered thusly:

yeah, i was trying to think of more scenarios where it all hurts... but those 3 are probably juicy and painful enough...


PS: *hugs*

  8:37 pm :. Blogger max hollered thusly:

I knew a richard at work once called Desire.

She gave my mate a BJ.

Or was her name DesireƩ..?

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17.2.08 | Because All Hope Is Lost

It is!

No really!

*smiles enthusuastically and energetically*

And because i wanted to post this evilly depressing and doom-laden nihilistic song. And fuck you, if you don't like it. Nyaaah!

*bares teeth and snarls*

oh and this... it's a day of the sorrows and dooms, today. Breathe your last, Mo-fo!

But mainly, this... (a scene from Betty Blue)

if you've never seen the erotic and unbearably sad and beautiful film, Betty Blue, then you should be ashamed of yourself. Even if you're just dropping out of the womb, you have no excuse! No excuse! What was your mother thinking, not making sure you're all cultured and ready for love, sex and loss? Damn that woman!- Why, i'd have bloody well rammed the telly up in there with you, if i'd known!

(I was gonna call your mother a cunt for being so irresponsible with you, but then i thought better of it, after all, why alienate my readership over a silly old film, eh? Naw, i'll definitely find a better reason for sure later on, after i've had a really good think about it and allowed my anger and blood pressure to rise!)


  4:07 am :. Blogger LiVEwiRe hollered thusly:

I'll have to come back and have a listen but I'm off to bed for now. Of course when I wake up the first thing I shall do is watch Betty Blue. Repeatedly of course, to make up for lost time. ;)

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11.2.08 | Waking Dreams And Demonic Visitations (in which The Saturnyne meets with a remarkably unwelcome visitor and observes the best ways to deal with such

I lie awake in my bed. Restless thoughts and sorrows furrowing my brow. So tired, i just want to sleep, please god, let me sleep well tonight, just this once? Please? I'll re-consider becoming a Christian again, if you let me sleep.... become a monk, take a vow of chastity, only look at women my own age or not at all, stop coveting all the best chocs for myself, try not to fantasize about sodomy and fist-fucking too much...

(HAh, i can just see some peoples eyes as they read that last bit... please guys, this is just a blog, and some poetic license is allowed, you know... it's not all true, except for when it is... *evil grinnage*

Incidentally, why oh why does good anal sex seem to require so much goddam preparation? HMM? first there's the enema's, then the lubing... really, it just takes ALL the fun out of it... then there's the possibility that your partner might REALLY resent you for not being able to walk properly for days...

So where was i? Oh yes...)

Slowly i become aware that the door leading to my attic has opened and a presence has entered my room.

My thoughts focus immediately into stark terror. This is no ghost. No human, no faerie or mischevious sprite or boggart such as you might find with too frequent regularity in these parts (after all grim Pendle Hill broods nearby, and everyone knows the stories about the witches and covens and dire mischiefs associated with that place). Such things are easily dealt with. No, what has just entered my bedroom is puissant.

I lie motionless in bed as i hear it moving towards me. I am quite terror-stricken and paralyzed with fright. I do what any sane person does in these situations. I pretend to be asleep and hope it goes away.

No good. It has seen me. It knows i'm there. It knows i'm not really asleep. Eyes tight shut, i hear it's footfalls draw nearer to the bed. Then horror- i feel a weight upon the bed next to my body and it's brimstone stench hits my nostrils as it leans over towards my face.

I open my eyes. There is no choice in this. Face horror with eyes closed or open... closed leaves your imagination fertile with horror upon horror. Open at least gives you the power to confront yor assailant. This is my salvation.

But Gods!- What the hell IS this demon? I am staring into the face of an abomination without a face! Black of skin, pitted and scarred like bassalt, and almost totally featureless, saving the barest shapings of a mouth and nose. It's like some ancient sculpture, worn with age and weathering.

It practically leers at me, even without features. but now i see it, and now the realization comes to me that i am dreaming of waking, and i am suddenly master of the situation... just...

I reach out a hand and caress it's face, almost like a lover. The skin is hard as i expected, and very warm, which i hadn't expected.

"Bugger off, you minor fucking demon!"

Realization that what makes this "thing" powerful is fear itself and that it's been playing me for a fool, burns me into a furious wrath. I push it's face backwards out of my dream and through sheer will power alone force myself into waking at the same time.

I awake, cold and staring up towards my bedroom ceiling, and for a moment there, i half fancy i see a reddish outline of something dangerous fading from where it came from.

"Aye- Piss off!"

I focus my cold blue and white hatred and fury on the outline until it is no more. real or imagined.

Bloody stealing into my dreams like that. Bastard.

I go back to sleep. Don't you just hate dreaming that you're awake and dreaming?



  7:16 am :. Blogger miss michele hollered thusly:

This comment has been removed by the author.

  9:14 pm :. Blogger supersoniclady hollered thusly:

oh..my..god. I love you.

sodomy and fist fucking. can it get any better? I submit that it cannot.

you're a very good writer, I love reading your stuff. I've only realized I was dreaming maybe twice that I can recall, and never anything too amazing.

  9:11 am :. Blogger miss michele hollered thusly:

hmmm... so good anal requires an enema AND lubing? you can't just go straight for it? j/a out of curiosity. nothing more..

  10:21 am :. Blogger carlberry hollered thusly:


It is with some dismay that I notice a recent trend in your articles towards blatant "shock" tactics. It can not have escaped the readers attention (and indeed it has not escaped mine) that the Saturnyne is deliberately attempting to alienate his readership via the use of profane language. This trick of the gutter press and daytime TV should be beneath any writer that aspires to create quality works for their audience.

In short, I am disappointed and feel let down by this low standard. I put this periodical on notice that further transgressions will not be tolerated by, I'm sure, the majority of your readership.

I hope this is the last mention of Daniel Johnston we will be reading and from now on the Saturnyne sticks to the sodomy and fist fucking.

Discussed of Tunbridge Wells

  4:25 pm :. Blogger The Saturnyne hollered thusly:

SSL: Zomg!

MM: Well... yeah, why do you think all those porn stars look ehm... shiny and clean...

Enema's aren't strictly necessary for anal, ofc... just ehm... more useful... gah!- go look it up on google, dammit! "good anal sex" or something will probably tell you everything you need to know =P

And lube! Can't have enough good lube! Jam and baby oil just isn't good enough!

(this sex advice has been brought to you via all agony aunts of the world. And possibly Deirdie's Photo Casebook in the Daily Mirror, the source of much mirth and faux voices here in Saturnyne Mansions.


CB: muhahaha! Daniel Johnston RULEZ! In time, he will take ovah teh worldz!

  8:26 am :. Blogger michele mania hollered thusly:

..... thank you?

  9:17 am :. Blogger {illyria} hollered thusly:

of course, OF COURSE, everyone will comment on the raunchy bits. ;) i heard this story about enemas and coffee, but this here sacred space may not be the best place to spill such drivel.

i miss you mightily.

  11:19 am :. Blogger Ginger Doll hollered thusly:

For some reason the black skinned demon is transmuting into a dildo head on man's body. Oh well. Says a lot for my sick little mind.

Glad you're back


  1:03 pm :. Blogger my sun sets to rise again hollered thusly:

Possibly, you are not picking the right people for this.

I have never had any complaints, only compliments on the limps I inflict.

  5:29 pm :. Blogger The Saturnyne hollered thusly:

Mm yer welcome *evil grin*

Il, did you know janet jackson admited in a magazine interview of her love for coffee enemas? I read it myself!

Gingy! I wouldn't have your mind any other way, hehe *hugs*


  6:00 pm :. Blogger The Saturnyne hollered thusly:

Oh and MSSTRA!




Next up! hawt goat sexss!


  4:39 pm :. Blogger michele mania hollered thusly:

lol of course i'll be your friend. when your birthday rolls around i'll be sure to make you an extra special post too. but i'll need some info..

and yeah, i <3 rachel, in a platonic way. she's the sex

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7.2.08 | Words, Sounds & Pictures

It's the audiences i can't stand. And yet without them, my favourite band would have nothing to bounce off, to focus on. Hardened fanatics always calling out for their favourite songs, and laughing pointlessly at the focus of our adulation and love on the stage as he tells yet another bad joke inbetween the most heart-breaking, achingly beautiful descriptions and vivid dissections of all human joy and misery.

Ir's been a good few years since i first saw American Music Club, but the image holds clear in my mind, even now. I saw them on my own. As usual, my friends mistrusting my love for a band they've almost completely been unaware of. One still won't forgive me for playing him Daniel johnston all night long. Lol at Carl.

Standing solitary amongst strangers, while this man, Mark Eitzel, suffering from a heavy cold, practically destroyed his voice for us, as he lets it soar, losing himself in his songs, letting us all feel some cathartic release from our own troubles. The first half of the show was loud howling, defiant rock, angry and bruised and hurting from a world that felt unbelievably cruel. The second half is ultimately the Mark Eitzel solo love-in. You can't help your jaw dropping in amazement at his tenderness and grief. An audience utterly enraptured by what they are experiencing, I hear people in tears, breaking down in public and unashamed or too overwhelmed by a recognition of their own sorry lives. Then the song ends and he breaks the spell with a truly terribly joke or anecdote, before doing it all over again in another equally perfect paean to love, loss and alcoholism. I've never seen any performance that has even come near to this kind of breath-taking live ragged perfect glory.

So anyway, they have a new album out... i'm hoping they're still lush...


Then there's From Russia at the Royal Academy in London. Which is probably one of the greatest groupings of arts masterpieces in the world at present, and unlikely to be repeated for decades. So go see it... if only for the wild and primal painting by Matisse above, which is just fucking lush and grrlorious. here's some writing about it, which i rather enjoyed
Prententious arty bollocks type comments here!


  9:35 pm :. Blogger miss michele hollered thusly:

i feel like i should blurt out something personal. don't ask me why, idk why either. i read your blog then this feeling of impulsion came over me but i was able to restrain from saying something incredibly stupid and mortifying, luckily.

  9:51 pm :. Blogger The Saturnyne hollered thusly:

haha... well if it's about my band or my art love, you are still welcome to say stuff i don't agree with... i have resigned myself to not convincing everyone about things i find awesome



  10:26 pm :. Blogger miss michele hollered thusly:

but i did like it!

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1.2.08 | Winter Storms

Restless mind racing, eyes like black charcoals, i twitch, toss and turn in my bed, unknowingly in tune to the weather as a pulse burns through my core, leaving me drenched in anxious sweat and simultaneously exhausted.

Why can't i sleep?

And the room shatters from inky black to vibrant blue and purple and back to an even deeper hue of black in the blink of an eye.

Of course! This is the reason why i cannot sleep. I throw back the sheets and stand naked at the window gazing out into the deep night.

And the thunder drums forth it's deep chiming beat, leaving me shivering with a deep joy in the cold winter airs.

Quickly i reach for my clothes, my keys and my longest trench-coat, then head for the door with a ferocity that would just kill you if you looked into my eyes- Twice as quickly if you got in my way.

And i burst through the door like a gunshot from a starting pistol, like water tearing down a dam, grinning defiance wildly into the hailstones and vicious wind that tears at my face with chilling sharp fingers.

The storm resonates within me, the freezing rain and hail reach through my clothing and i am drenched and shivering violently in seconds. I do not notice. I do not care. I am exultant. Today a thunder god laughs and i throw my head back and laugh also.



  7:00 am :. Blogger supersoniclady hollered thusly:

very interesting. was this written for fun or is there a hidden meaning behind it?

and yes, I do have an englishman or two I forgot to put on the list. I shall have to add a second entry as including photos into my entries seems to throw the entire layout of the text askew.

  7:37 am :. Blogger MicheleMania hollered thusly:

wow... i think i've mentioned this before,but your ability to capture the readers' attention is absolutely fabulous. so what happens next?

and thanks for the support. i appreciate it. the shirts will be cool, b/c they will be my design. they'll rock the shelves and storm into every closet in America, as well as across every other developed nation, till even less fortunate countries will be sporting them. not realizing that the shirts were meant to help them all along. a wee bit ironic in my opinion, but hey *shrugs* its about change.

how've you been lately?

  4:56 pm :. Blogger The Saturnyne hollered thusly:

ssl: all writing is open to interpretation =)

There was a thunderstorm, and i hate to miss walking in them. At such times, one can feel truly alive.

mm: thank-you, and how could we not support a charitable kindness!?! Knock 'em dead!


  11:35 pm :. Blogger MicheleMania hollered thusly:

thanx i will. starting up is going to be a bit tough... but i'm not going to give up

  12:07 am :. Blogger MicheleMania hollered thusly:

your photograph seems interesting, but i wasn't able to get a very good look. i do like it however, and you seem attractive

  12:11 am :. Blogger MicheleMania hollered thusly:

how are your dreams of otters and tall buildings coming along?

  1:16 am :. Blogger The Saturnyne hollered thusly:

well the tall buildings one i had in the post below...

otters are variable in appearance =)


And yes, i'm disgustingly handsome... maybe... probably not... maybe... oh i dunno, hah

  4:02 pm :. Blogger Ginger Doll hollered thusly:

Oh, the Satty-Babes is a gorgeous boy! ;-}

The weather's throwing up some fabulous displays at the moemnt, its great to hear that you're enjoying them

Thinking of you as always.


  7:24 pm :. Blogger Terri hollered thusly:

What a great post for my first visit here. I love thunderstorms and your words reminded me why.

  4:13 am :. Blogger Aberrant Templar hollered thusly:

The New York Giants just won the Superbowl and I'm drunk as a skunk.

This is, apparently, the internet version of "drunk dialing"

  8:54 pm :. Blogger supersoniclady hollered thusly:

oh geez, that sounds absolutely terrible! we've had a flea problem before but never that bad.

and yeah, psh, as if you could find my myspace and youtube accounts. you won't get near myspace with a 40 foot pole!

  10:33 am :. Blogger MicheleMania hollered thusly:

plan on joining the nonliving?

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