You’ve got a branch loose up in your head forest girlfriend

Episode 46 of The Future Sex Love Art Projekt

Full script

“Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it’s broken, but you can still see the crack in that mother fucker’s reflection.”
-Lady Gaga

I believe the following:

Nudity is not sex
Nor pornography
It is the human form
Reduced visually
To its purest state
Un-censored and un-tainted.

However, last year it came to my attention that others may think differently.

Like best friends for instance

Et tu, Brute?
-William Shakespeare, Julius Ceasar.

“Are you ok?”

“No, fuck off.”

There is only one thing a writer can write about.
What is in front of one self at the moment of writing.
I do not presume to impose story, plot or continuity.
I an not an entertainer, I am a recording instrument.

- William S. Burroughs, Naked Lunch.


A poem about life not being a fairy tale, because if you loose a shoe at midnight, you’re probably drunk.

I got all the corners
In my eyes
What they hide
That is what I always see
What isn’t said
That is what I always see
What isn’t said
What is bled
Till they get judged
Nobody is broken
Till they need
Everybody’s got a unicorn for a friend

Love will tear us apart — Joy Division

The stinging words
I don’t know how to be your friend anymore.

The sting
Is my low tide
Breathing in my ear
When I think about why
Knowing that I don’t know

Friends: Express yourself fully as an individual.
Friends: Not like that.

This was about something that was very valuable to me,
but that thing has now been replaced by judgement

This film is me getting over it

A good friend knows all your stories,
but a best friend helps you write them

Take the distance strained
Hold it close
And never hurt again.

I like to think of it as an adventure.


This was a film about 30 year best friendship
That experienced a side hustle towards nope, no way, nuh uh.

Perhaps I was guilty of not being the person I always was
The person with the nice girl mask on for everyone’s benefit, but mine

This is my art. This is my writing. This is me self medicating.
And this is me choosing to be wierd and not needing to be cheered by you

This is me choosing to be different.
Instead of indifferent like we practised at school

Remember when you said you’d always have my back?
I thought you meant it.
Silly me

This is me resigned to what will be
Instead of what needs to be rescued

I can’t say I’m sorry. I’ll make everything better’ again
Because I’m not sorry for doing something tangible with my fears

But I’m sorry about the intangibles.

I’m sorry that you have been conditioned to believe
That my bare skin is pornographic and obscene

I’m sorry that you cannot saperate my art from me

I’m sorry that you don’t know who I am, NOW

I’m sorry that you believe the skin I was born in
and my memories of being in it
Are lewd and something I should be ashamed of

In the end, I’m sorry of being me
Got in the way of you being you
And us being us

And now I am one memory lighter
Because it can’t weigh me down anymore

And I am one memory happier
Because I have one less thing to say

You are the silence in between what I thought and what I said
-Florence & the Machine/No light.

With that memory as a film, I am one memory less fucked up
Then I was yesteday
And I think this is best for everyone. Don’t you?

Written for the screen by Missy Jubilee

Handmade by Missy Jubilee’s Appaloosa Duck, Sydney, Australia

The crowd is the gathering place of the weakest true creation is a solitary act -Charles Bukowski

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