bellmusker


Profile

bellmusker
City: Melbourne
Country: Australia
Joined: Apr 2007

Ink stains my fingertips most days.

I have a fondness for whiskey, a passion for Germanic linguistics and a scowl that could knock small animals off their feet.

I get cranky if I don’t write. It’s never pretty.

I listen to the blues every day and am afraid of crumpets. I once ate a rat and always know when the moon is full. I don’t drive. Men with salt and pepper stubble take my breath away and boys who swagger bring venom to the thirteen serpents tattooed on my flesh. That’s not pretty either. I like cowboys though; they smell good.

I was agoraphobic for two years and wrote my way out. Solitude and silence still sit at my table, and make my heart sing. I often cosset myself in my flat, pour the whiskey, and dive into dictionaries. The words entwine themselves in my hair and keep me afloat, wrapping conjunctions around curls and trailing ink through auburn.

I ask for little more than that.

Well, if you could throw in a honey martini and someone to brush my hair, that’d be spectacular too.

Oh, and I also have no stomach for people who walk on stilts. Sinister little fuckers.

I’m done now.

Journal Entries

We get on like a horse on fire

Posted 17 days ago, 56 comments so far.

for the scribes

Posted about 1 month ago, 36 comments so far.

with apologies to the cat

Posted about 1 month ago, 84 comments so far.

candlesticks and alley cats

Posted 2 months ago, 79 comments so far.

New York City

Posted 4 months ago, 29 comments so far.

Los Angeles: the peanut moment

Posted 4 months ago, 28 comments so far.

speak

Posted 5 months ago, 56 comments so far.

many moons ago

Posted 6 months ago, 50 comments so far.

the butterfly girl with the red canary

Posted 6 months ago, 44 comments so far.

I know

Posted 7 months ago, 44 comments so far.

Writing

red poppy song

We know better.

the kohl girl & her lime pips

I’m allergic to purple and terrifying to Virgos.

die Verwandlung

She couldn’t say how it began. She couldn’t say how it was going to end either, but she was almost becoming used to it. She hadn’t gagged in a long, long time.

Lucy's pretending

Lucy’s pretending she’s not on fire.

the growling goddess of chinatown

For one red moment she thinks she might kick the door in.

nine tails

I listen to his stories, and pretend that I won’t become one of them.