ghxsts bio picture

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."

everyday’s forecast

“Searching for a pillar of strength in a confusing world. Your eyes tell me all I need to know, you’re reaching out for warmth in the cold. You try to lose yourself in someone else, but even in a crowded room you’ll always feel so alone. But there’s beauty in these moments that we spent by ourselves even if it’s hard to see sometimes, like a pretty face obscured behind a veil of tears. “I need” is such an ugly phrase when it falls from your lips in a stranger’s voice like a whisper of defeat. I know it’s hard to feel whole when you’re broken inside so learn to wrap your arms around yourself, cradle your head and dry your salt stained eyes. Because there’s beauty in these moments that we spend by ourselves even if it’s hard to see sometimes like a pretty face obscured behind a veil of tears. This is what I’ve learned: Don’t search for solace in another’s embrace. Everyone that we hold so dear gets lost in the static of the passing years. So, learn to be alone. Find comfort in solitude. Harden your heart and build unbreakable will. It’s the only way you’ll ever survive this world.”

Getting blunted by the light and of the skyline, anchorless, foundationless. Holding onto hope, and waiting for high times. It’s hopeless when you’re young, it’s hopeless when you’re cold, anchorless, foundationless – hunting for a home base. What can we call home? Bottles and smoke, the air is so cold. The sand is soaked, and it continues to pour. I live on the North Shore, you live by the bay, and we’re fucked tonight because we just missed the last train. We built this place for us. We built a home for us. We built a refuge from the noise of the world, where you can go when you’ve been burned by school, and you hate your parents’ home. We built a home for us. Bottles and smoke, and this air is so cold. The sand is soaked, and it continues to pour. Where can you go when you’ve been burned by school, and you hate your parents’ home? You go to Cates. You to the 16th. You break yourself at China Creek. The New York Theatre in the late fall. 605 Mountain Highway, Seylynn Hall. Crosstown Traffic. Escape to Troll Beach. Commercial, Clark, Hastings, Granville, and Main Street. 3rd and Balacava, the summer sun goes down, and as the night infects our part of town – we’re home.

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