
SPIDERS IN THE BUBBLEGUM
DEATH HOUSE FOR HUNNIE
#03
Coming Soon...
Stuck in Sanity in the 1960's, On her way to die, Euphemia Keats is drawn to a strange boy over the hill; following him to a junk sale where he persuades her to buy a 1920's Cinecamera.
When she gets home, she discovers an old film left inside reasoning that she has to get it developed. On top of that, Finn Darling, a boy she knows only vaguely has started showing up everywhere she is.
He has a proposition: join her at Heaven House to make a movie, where a group of actors are rumoured to have disappeared in the 1920's. On the developed film, Euphemia finds footage filmed by a boy who appears only when he stands on front of a mirror. He turns, his face filling with fright before the camera drops to a ceiling of painted angels. Euphemia becomes obsessed with finding the boy, dead or alive.
But then, at Heaven House- or colloquially, Heaven- she finds something that makes her sink into old vices; imagining a boy in a cloak. She talks to the trees and doesn’t care about blood-soaked flowers.
She thinks absently that the actors sharing the halls of Heaven with her are like a bunch of broken angels. Too familiar with the darkness now. One of them accused of murder; two of them old friends, now barely speaking because of what happened. But they stare at her as though she's Jekyll with a potion in her hands.
Beware the boy who ate the fallen star, Euphemia read before the first of them went missing. She had heard that there were bodies buried in the garden but why didn’t she tell?
Maybe finding a cinecamera with old tape can be dangerous.
If you choose to play.
Then, See you soon archangel, in Sanity or in Heaven.
Clayviola is a 60s Gothic love story that explores art vs. reality; nature, passion(madness), and true love.
Lets face it. The world’s a big place & there’s plenty of guys out there- thought the land itself may well be depleting, if you believe those sporadic glimpses of nigh oblivion breathed uninvitedly through booze @ parties.
Or feel the rise in the sun for that matter.
Therefore, the chances of you kicking your heels about in the same town as the one you’re supposed to be with- cosmically speaking: pretty bloody unlikely. & on top of that How many guys read Byron? No, you’ll meet boy ‘alright’ then he’ll send you ungrammatically correct love notes. Add aitches to aitches in speech. Pretend to be cool (in Unknown Pleasures T-shirt)
Worse; he’ll want blown semi-regularly & won’t get excited about B&W movies* *But Marvel could be the century’s new Valium.
So what does a girl do?— She Frankenstein dreams the perfect guy. A honey. A dreamboat. She gives him a name like Rochester OR Darcy or CLAYVIOLA
He’ll be beautiful like the moon & @ home in darkness.
When I met Nathaniel Goth, or to be more specific saw Nathaniel Goth, he was pure diametric. He was the kind of boy who would make Narcissus turn his head & have sweet Echo just died in vain. He was perfect Tabula Rasa. Perfect Muse. He had no memory of the boy he once was
.....God, he told me ghost stories & we even tried to communicate with the dead. (& this was between Byron quotes) but then he kissed me… he started to remember.
This really got in my way of thinking. That’s when I decided one thing.
I’d have to kill the boy of my dreams.

Or maybe Kerouac is Poohbear now...