La Belleza de Suicidio~

They say smoking is bad for you.
......eh.
Que sera, sera.

Mouth to Mouth to Mouth

"Lips like licorice, tongue like candy!"
-3oh!3/My First Kiss

Psychedelic Romance

"Summer's almost gone. Where will we be when the Summer's gone?"
-Jim Morrison-The Doors/Summer's Almost Gone

July 3. Today marks the 41st anniversary of the death of Jim Morrison; one of the most influential icons in the history of rock music. A poetic and lyrical pioneer that dove in the deepest depths of thought with his writing and explored the plains of emotion with his amazing vocal execution and wild stage performances. Regarded as one of the greatest singers of all time, he is remembered on this day as an inspiration to aspiring artists.

"The music is your special friend. Dance on fire as it intends."
-Jim Morrison-The Doors/When The Music's Over

Twisted Like A Screwball

Just recently did some cover work for local Richmond hip hop artist Bali $oprano's "Twisted Str8". Guy's got a amazing style and interesting flow. Definately worth a listen!

"Twisted Str8" Download: http://www.hulkshare.com/lj9buh90j7w5

Bali's Soundcloud: http://soundcloud.com/bali-oprano

Mighty Morphin - Rita Repulsa-

A tribute to one of my favourite villainesses of all time. Rita Repulsa. Gotta love a woman that can withstand that many headaches without taking any Aspirin.

I heart Domo-kun

Personal perception of Domo. <3

Paradise in a Calumet

"I like my art high, just like my mental state."

-A quote from a blog that (unfortunately) no longer exists.

GumGum

A little tribute to my favourite Jet Grind Radio/Jet Set Radio Future character.

Style in a new direction.

A bit of style, talent, and innovation coming out of the Richmond based area. Davinci and Pharoah Sistare, two immensely talented music producers and also the visionaries behind the upcoming clothing brand Bow$ & Ros£s. I find it intruiging what they plan to do with this brand, taking bits from the past and incorporating it into modern styles to create their own flair. Not to mention the music they produce is amazing, mixing and experimenting with genres whilst adding their own sense of musical genius to the mix. It's truly an honour to have been the one to design the official logo for such innovators as these two.

EDIT: Bow$ & Ros£s is now Laylor Ruxuly/

Pharoah's Soundcloud: http://soundcloud.com/user3089086/tracks?page=1

Davinci's Soundcloud: http://soundcloud.com/davinci1/tracks

J.D.L.R.

Sure as hell ain't Superman in the sky. . .

Photo Bloggin' -Take 3-

Fifteen

I have loved you since we were 10 years old.

Sharing secrets on the playground swing set; palms clasped.

Wildly thrashing our bodies upward, trying to be the first to get our feet to touch the sky.
We were such dreamers.

Everyday after-school, we'd climb the giant oak tree in your backyard, hanging from the branches like wild howler monkeys.
Playing like feral animals, until the street lights came on and our parents would becon us inside for supper and were forced to part ways.

Those were the days.

We were an inseperable pair.
Over the next 5 years, we grew together, as one.
Facing the 90's as cool, calm, and collected as possible.
Until that one Saturday in June, I remember it like it was yesterday.

My mother had just brought me a new cherry red blazer, and matching Doc Marten's.
I skipped all the way to your house, the entire 6 blocks just to show you; humming "Wonderwall", your favorite tune.

But when I got your steps, something just wasn't right.

Boxes filled your yard.
And I could hear your mother crying and screaming, "Not my baby, oh Lord, not my baby!"
I slowly ascended your steps, not sure what I'd find when I reached your room.

The pastel pink walls where your numerous rock posters once resided were now replaced with shreddings of what seemed to used to be a 3 year obsession with Kurt Cobain.
I walk right in, not bothering to even knock.

"Still torn up over Kurt's death, eh?"
Your face, is stone.
"I'm sick," you say in a voice similar to aluminum cans being crushed.
Your voice sounds raw. Your eyes are blood red. Like you've been crying all night.
"Sick, like how?"
"The type of sick, that doctors cant fix."
And with that, you form yourself into a fetus within my open arms.

Tears falling, creating mini tsunami's on my new blazer, you tell me how you've been diagnosed with an agressive brain tumor.

Stage 3 brain cancer.

The doctors' say there's no hope for you.
So your parent's are sending you to the Cancer Treatment Centers of America.
For the rest of that afternoon, we lie in your bed.

Crying. Smiling. Laughing. Remembering.

Until, at exactly 5:39p.m. your mom walks in and says nothing more than, "it's time to go."
I take off my new Doc Marten's. They still smell of plastic.
"Here," I say, voice breaking. "...take these with you. Never forget me."

I sit on your front steps, knees up to my nose, tears burrowing permanent caverns in my cheeks as i watch you, and the better half of 15 years, sloppily packed in brown cadboard boxes, shipped off to Zion Illinois in a U-Haul.
790 miles away.
Today, was the beginning of the end.

I walked the entire way home, barefoot.
Speaking no words to my parents when I arrived.

They, had already heard.
The entire summer, I never heard from you. June came and went. As did July and August.

Many attempts from everyone around me to "get out and have some fun."

But without my best friend around, "fun" was just an illogical three-lettered word.

September 3rd, you called.
The doctors were right.

There was no hope.
Your tumor was inoperable.
The next Thursday, you'd be on your way home to "wait it out."

When you arrived, I was already on your steps, waiting.

In the same place you left me almost 4months ago.
I watched in awe as your frail body oozed from the passenger seat of the U-Haul.
What has Cancer done to you?
I was almost too scared to even hug you.Scared that i would do more damage to you than already inflicted by the cancer.

It took me, your mother, and your father a total 17 minutes to unpack your boxes.
Most of your things, you had discarded like a used Kleenex.

Not wanting to be reminded of who you once were.
Frail. Tender-skinned. Hallow-eyed. This is who you are now.

"I love you."
You whisper it almost inaudibly.
"I know." I respond.
"No," you insist, your strong will is showing."...I love you. As more than my friend, as my other half."
"I know." I repeat."I know, I've always known."

I barely feel the shift of weight on the couch, but you lean over,with the swiftness of a snail, and kiss me.
The first kiss, was the sweetest. Like a grape iceberg in the Summertime.
I took the liberty of carving the names of our great grand childreninto the underside of your tonsils with my tongue.

Moving away from each other, smiling, I administer one final kiss, this one to your forehead, and promise to be back tomorrow morning.
For the first time in 4 months, I smile, unforced. And happily walk home.
That night, i slept well.

September 13th, at 6:07a.m., I died inside.
Your mother awoke to discover you in your bed, sleeping peacefully.

Eternally.

I couldnt even gather myself enough to make it to your funeral. But later that day, I was sure to leave a bouquet of sunflowers on your grave, your favorite.
Finally making my way home, I toss myself on the bed, attempting to drown in the sea of covers.
I cannot go on without you.

That night, I formally introduced my right wrist to the rusted razor blade I found under the toilet.

Thus began, a monthly ritual...

It's been 9 years since you died, and the scars on my wrist finally have the audacity to heal.
I've finally managed to kiss my husband's lips enough to form them into the shape of yours.

And when we fuck, I've trained myself to automatically groan and callout his name, knowing full well you're the one on my mind.

My children, they all have your mischevious smile made of pearls.

And when they laugh, I can hear your heart beat.

Over the years, I've hidden the truth under my pillow case.

Unsent love letters addressed to you.
If these walls could talk, they'd confess for years.

Sometimes I still visit your grave, to replace dead sunflowers with those with life.
Hoping, someday, maybe you'd be replaced with life as well.
But until then, I wait.
Crying ballads into pillow cases that taste of memories we never made.

© Malix Mechü

We are here to fly!

Inspired by an amazing track by drum 'n bass artist Miss Redflower.
"Here to Fly":http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoWUuM4ehrY

Building Steam with a Grain of Salt...

A rather spontaneous piece inspired by DJ Shadow's track "Building Steam with a Grain of Salt." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32X-ieCav-M

Shedding Emotions

"Leave the past behind, just walk away. When it's over, and the heart breaks. And the cracks begin to show."
-"Cracks" Freestylers ft. Belle Humble(Flux Pavillion Remix)

Valentine's Day Giggles

Alot of people whom are single today are wasting the day away complaining about it on Facebook. Those of us who don't mind living the single life are out with friends having fun and being conspicuously random in public places. Rite Aid is a prime example.

Photo Bloggin' -Take 2-

200+ Men

More photomanipulting. A friend of mine challenged me to take a picture of Anne Hathaway and transform her into Shaundi from Saints Row 2(we both like her more than the Shaundi from Saints Row the Third). Challenge Accepted... Status: Success

Original picture:

http://images.fanpop.com/images/image_uploads/Anne-Hathaway-anne-hathaway-97283_1024_768.jpg

#DecapitationSwag

A cartoony design I drew up for a friend who runs an online shop on cafepress.

Brandon Teena

Your lips still glisten with the sin of adultry; i remember the first time i kissed you.
Promising between awkwardly timed breaths that he would never have to know.
He'll never know.
He'll never know.

For one night only, our makeshift cover fort served as a Garden of Eden.
She who comes from Adam's rib, serpent tounge, waggling, Macintosh resides between my thighs...eat me.
Hickies strewn across my neck like your grandmother's pearls; I Am Yours.

His eyes burrow into my soul, as if he knows something i dont.
I think he knows.
I think he knows.

One night stands on frilly pink pillows, turn into, two night stands on your parent's bed that turn into, three night stands at the Quality Inn, that turn into, oh damn, just not giving a fuck, putting our bedroom scenes on display at a local park.
Everybody knows.
Everybody knows.

I knew it.
I knew it was you, before anybody said anything about nothing.
I knew.
The faint gleam of Lucifer's smile behind his eyes said everything before his mouth did.

"I killed that bitch!"

Everything goes black.

My eyes are closed, yet i can still see you clear as day.
I'm resting my head on your shoulders, our intertwined legs dangle, hanging beneath the porch swing.
We laugh.
Steady day dreaming about owning that karaoke bar down in Memphis.
We smile.
Perfecting our accents, preparing for the move.
We let our words roll from our mouths, smooth and slow, like Southerners do.

I open my eyes.
He stands there.
Still.
With the blood of you on his hands.

I walk away, smiling, because he could never be you.

© Malix Mechü

[This poem is based on the flim "Boys Don't Cry"]

You make me smile. :)

I'm sure we've all at least once have come across someone on the street that says "Smile. Don't look so down. Smile!"
I wish I could make this face whenever that happens. I'm not mad, I'm listening to Children of Bodom on my mp3 player....leave me alone.

-Allison

Blood tastes nothing like metal!

Metal gets all your sour buds going...

-Allison

X-ray Spex had a point...

"But the biggest serial killer is a heart attack."

-Allison

A little out of whack.

"We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all."
- The Breakfast Club

Malix's "odd" tattoo done at Enigma.

The Devil's food cake...

A little messing around in Photoshop.

-Allison

Photo Bloggin' -Take 1-

"Photo Bloggin'" is a what we'd like to call a side-series of the original aim of our blog. Just a peek into our daily lives and a jist of what goes down in RVA.