We can awaken from the terror of a dream... can't we?

Bella decided the Yule wreath is her new border to sit in while conducting her ritual magic. Cats are magicians. That's why they sit in a circle or square for protection to summon demons.

This reminds me of the dream I had, when I lent Jonny Lee Miller a pair of scissors I had been keeping in my bra. When I gave them to him he said "You have warm blood, like a jackal".

Considering it a sequel to the Werner Herzog dream I had a few years ago, where he was giving a lecture about wanking in the Coventry branch of JD Sports: sat in a wingback chair, trousers round his ankles, joylessly pounding his lad, intoning “we do whatever we must to encourage the seed to emerge”

Dreamed I was lost in the Barbican on the way to meet Werner Herzog & my thumbs & tongue were made of wax & kept melting & when I finally found him he took one look at me, eyes filled with pity, disgust & a deep intimacy with the void & said “Rose, the furnace of your vanity is destroying you”

The Oracle has spoken.

Ridiculous Keshed blurbs in my profile here from folk like @wednesdayerskin.bsky.social @jamesscudamore.bsky.social @heidijames.bsky.social @susannacrossman.bsky.social @regretteruane.bsky.social @markabowles.bsky.social @leebrackstone.bsky.social uk.bookshop.org/shop/Stu_Hen...

I'm gonna start being an insufferable self-promoting knobhead for the foreseeable, would be ace if we could get #GetKeshed trending at some point before Feb.

Sometimes scintillating Blakean visions herald my migraines; fracturing stained glass galaxies, everything fiercely pearled with ecstatic majesty but mostly it’s a bolt of stray echoaic language or sound & today it’s: A little mouse with Crocs on Well I declare! Going wank-wankety-wank on the stair

What refulgent asteristic mirage is the aura offering this evening? What coruscating elysian poetries? Why, it’s the bombastic trumpety bits from Mirie It Is/Summer Is A-cumen In, with willy & bum added over the top like lyrics. Shall we call William Blake? Shall we bring your bow of burning gold?

Imagine that big lump of bone floating around in my shoulder, hitting nerves for 12 years of agony.

Big lump of bone was removed from my shoulder. Waiting to hear if they managed to repair it at all.

Shoulder operation this morning. At last. (after more than 11 years!) Waiting for anaesthetist. Getting done first thing.

In myth, in Chinese massage, etc, they are the transmitters of energy. It’s why some cultures don’t shake hands. You got an aural transmission… interesting… Were you under chemical influence or just normally misruling?

A voice coming out my fingertips is strange.

Watch out watch out There's a Humphry about

I'm doing an editing job on @robtruestories.bsky.social new MS so gonna get that sorted before I do owt else 👍 What's first on your pile? Don't forget to #GetKeshed - out on Feb 12th 👍

Rock rock to the planet rock

All true, and if you haven't read In the Shadow of the Phosphorus Dawn you should!

Write plainly? No! My writing is poetic, esoteric, disturbing, mystic, hallucinatory, obscure, violent, revolting, and disorienting. If my books were plain and accessible, I'd have failed in my intention. I want to induce a temporary madness in my reader. My books are literary hallucinogens.

Farewell 2025 Ph. John Gutmann The Cry, 1939

Dreamt I had a fight with my dad. I used to have mad punch ups with the old man when I was a teenager. He was brutal and violent, so I had to defend myself. In the dream, my punches had no power. I hit him in the face to no affect. Every punch landed weak.

Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly. Not sure if this is a Kafka quote (as I saw it suggested) or Anne Rice on Kafka's impact on her, as was otherwise suggested.

it’s a wicked world in all meridians; I’ll die a pagan.

Divine devil by Jill McDonald for Puffin Post. Hell’s handsome horror of an artist, shades of Pan painting a sky much like the one outside right now. I love how the quiet darkness ever lurking in her antic illustrations of madcap, jolly-joyful puffins surfaces in this work of elegant menace

Edvard Munch Women on the Shore

Joseph Tomanek Nymphs Dancing to Pan's Flute

It can be interesting to see paintings as windows in the wall, portals to views of other worlds.

Stu Hennigan or Stu Pid ?

Got a quote from Rob the Bastard inside the front 😎 w/12 others inc Wendy Erskine, Heidi James, Susanna Crossman, Lee Brackstone, Naomi Booth, Robin Ince. Read em all here. stuhennigan.substack.com/p/blatant-se...

The Shaman - Sascha Schneider

Keshed by @stuhennigan.bsky.social is the next book you'll buy. Either that or you're stu pid

Strange electric entities glow fluorescent colours. Some monstrous creature approaches. The devilish apparition materialises with menace, lurks sinister and threatening. I stare it down and it fades to nothing. More luminous entities appear and dance in the black light.

Someone just grabbed my face and tilted it up and to the left. I went to fight back, only to realise, it was my own hand grabbing my jaw. As soon as I realised, I had control my hand again and it seemed weird that I hadn't for moment.

Just nodded out into dream state bliss only to re-materialise back into this reality, a pain realised in my hand. I looked down and found that I was carving a shard of broken glass into my finger, blood all down me and over the floor. I laughed and then considered, I probably ought to clean the cut.

Dreamt some terrible force of chaotic madness and destruction was spreading throughout our world like a disease causing death and insanity, bending reality, and it was somehow all my fault. It'd emanated from me and I couldn't stop it.

Some of my nephew's (Nic Tibbits) portraits of me.

Libera te tutemet ex inferis

The Three Magi

Libera te tutemet ex inferis

Some of my nephew's (Nic Tibbits) portraits of me.

Dreamt some terrible force of chaotic madness and destruction was spreading throughout our world like a disease causing death and insanity, bending reality, and it was somehow all my fault. It'd emanated from me and I couldn't stop it.

I'm on me feet all day but happy daze, just rolled a skinny one, gonna read @robtruestories.bsky.social new MS to unwind, sober Xmas ia hard even tho no one was drinking. Nightmare incoming at me mam's boozefest on Sat 🤣

Me and the missus at Yuletide

Alright Alright Alright Alright

Hush ya beak!