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FOOD FOR THOUGHT.

Welcome to my blog!

Hello my name is: Icicle Audacity. All I see are ghxsts. I'm the misguided stride for self improvement - a sadistic, futuristic machine. A hollow cold emitted through vibrant lights, it’s a warm as wool winter but I’ve got a chill I can’t shake. This is what I am & I think I’m fine in my own misguidance. My bones are frozen, my marrow has turned to ice - my body is just a body, a corpse without a head. I'm just a vessel & my brain has long been dead.

Dylan McAmmond
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"That's really the only thing that matters to me, is that I make art for a living. And if I make art for a living... I win."

Monthly Archives: November 2010

Great monsters devour the bones

You have no idea how much it hurts to watch you walk in circles on the living room carpet with every awkward, twisted step. I see you reaching for something that is being stolen from you. You have no say in this, you want no part of it but that’s not going to stop it […]

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cage capacity

If actions speak louder than words then I guess I’m whispering a trembling train of clumsy thoughts and anxious thinking, under the chill of a cold sweat in a colder room. Can you hear me over the chatter of my teeth or the slipping of my spine for the first time in my life? Outside […]

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make noize

I’ve filled my heart with hate and what some might call a break-down I call a face-first fall to broken teeth, with a blank expression sitting comfortably on an unshaven face. I’m following the white rabbit and I don’t have an ounce of anything left in me for second thought to hesitate, so don’t hold […]

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american beauty

Remember those posters that said, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life”? Well, that’s true of every day but one – the day you die.

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this guy knows what’s up…

MAESTRO ON DRUMS PT 2 from TONE on Vimeo.

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oh girl this boat is sinking, there’s no sea left for me.

She’s splattered paint on drapery; I’m a blood-stained mess, a lying thief. And to be honest I’m not half of what you seem to think. Vacant lot, a water drop, the kettle to the blackest pot. When I drop closed my eyes, another censored soft core scene: Stripped of what you want to see, twice […]

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