27th July - 1st August 2011 (Camp Bestival)

Flouro fuck. Stained satin. Drunken elation. Bed day bruises lick the wounds. Uneasy mist cradles the unstable ones. Giddy chimes. False doorbells. Burglar pillows. Domesticated kids play. Pots and pans/doctors and nurses. Condensation is our vapour and nausea is our poison. Heads ache and dew drops christen our breath. Drunken fatigue. Chipped knees on china girldolls. Swamped in isolation we're the modern day sergeants. Useless static and fuzz on Earth's last axis. Ricketing tip toes as we sink into the green skin. The scent of sweet sweats wets our calm brains. Elementary thoughts as counting backwards into purity. One, two, three. Leave me here, let the woods eat me.

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