I have hated humanity from the day I was born. Art and animals are the closest things on earth to salvation, yet humanity would kill us all. I am a decadent poet of a certain age, painter, novelist and performance artist. I’m known by my alias, Johnny Noir, my identity fluid and electric.
I live in suburbia in exile from New York City, expatriated from the Lower East Side and the Upper East Side. One too bohemian, the other too bourgeois. I have no politics to speak of other than anarchy and revolution.
My work is an aesthetic synthesis of string theory and neuroscience. I call it neuropoetics and it does not appeal to the senses but speaks directly to archetypes of the subconscious. I write in HD Symbolism and eschew the 20th century.
“If I justify myself, my own mouth shall condemn me: if I say, I am perfect, it shall also prove me perverse.”
Arthur Rimbaud, Jim Thompson, David Goodis, Mickey Spillane, Dasheill Hammett, Sylvia Plath, Jack Kerouac, Dylan Thomas, Marquis de Sade, Raymond Chandler, Yukio Mishima, William S. Burroughs
cats, girls and Neuropoetics
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