Jerrod Carmichael

It is a high brow party on the roof of some LA building.
Edwin comes up to me and tries to dance with me. He's a terrible dancer.
I steal away and find a metal bench on which I recline.
With my new eye level I have a clear view of a chair meters away across the pool.
Jerrod Carmichael comes to sit in the chair and his eyes immediately find mine.
I don't break eye contact, not even when he gets up and navigates his way around the pool, through the sea of gyrating bodies and gets to me.
I sit up, still maintaining eye contact. He bends over and kisses me. I kiss him back.
Just as suddenly, he breaks away and sits next to me, his hand flying to his head in frustration? Regret? Confusion?
"What am I doing?" he asks himself.
I open my mouth to speak but I am stopped by the feeling of an insect crawling on my neck. I slap my neck to kill it and I wake up to the sound of early birds.

Inside

I like quiet nights in with some good music.
A glass of wine and my mood swings
But lately, I've gone from "I'm digging this solitaire" to 'I'd rather someone else was here."

Half a self portrait

My name is Korkor
When I am not thinking about what I want to eat next, I can be found daydreaming about the perfect relationship.
When I get bored with that I'm usually drawing lofty plans for my future that I have only half the motivation to see through.

I wish I could see myself through another's eyes

I wish

Terracotta feet; porcelain faces

A masquerade of waring identities
A deep seated obsession to be loved
Risking life and looks
For a moment of acceptance

Water in a basket

Impossible dreams. How do you make someone love you?

A minute is a long time

To wait for what you don't think you can live without.