constantly waking up in the night both pensive and nostalgic.
I’m giving up for the night. Leave me ask-box questions for the morning - anonymous or…identified.
I’m clearly bored, and I do have too many things to do, that I shouldn’t be fucking around on Tumblr but whatever.
That moment when you didn’t finish your work, email your teacher, and…Are actually extremely calm about it.
I’m not freaking out at all about the fact that I didn’t finish.
There are greater things in life to concern yourself with, and missing class deadlines that won’t matter in 10 years, isn’t one of those things.
I guess you could say that I learned a little bit about myself and about human nature this evening.
Sugar Bowl Restaurant, Gaylord, Michigan, July 7, 1973
Stephen Shore
I’d like to, one day, dress in that 50’s pinup-rockabilly dress that I’ve been meaning to buy, style my hair with Veronica Lake’s waves, and share a tall milkshake with someone in an old diner while something strange crackles in the ole’ jukebox.
Yeah, that’d be nice.
(via bbook)
"Lies can generate some deep love. You can be addicted to lies and falsity as a way of dealing with life. You can fall for illusion, delusion, deception and deceit."
Cornel West, Hope on a Tightrope (via quartercirclejab)
Simon & Garfunkel - Sounds of Silence
-
This is one of my favourite songs of forever. Simon & Garfunkel have such a serene quality to them that elicit a very specific emotion in me. I love them.
When I can’t focus on work, and my mind is going wiggidy, I make a foobly sound, and purse my lips, baring my teeth like an ape, discovering a reflective surface.
Skipping class and my crit because, well, fuck this.
Long Day
- Found two yolks in my breakfast
- Went to Spanish class
- Viewed another apartment
- Weird times with Agnes, the realtor
Re: throwing stones, “this wouldn’t hurt it, right? -scratch scratch-“, jimmying the handle, team effort of hands through the bars, yelling to get the tenant’s attention - Went to Mars’ house
- They got drunk, we played games, Mars almost got uncomfortably close to me
- Lost my Mac lipstick in Mars’ couch (NOOOOO)
- Ability to articulate myself properly in speech is returning
- Two blast from the past friend requests on Facebook and one unexpected one
- It’s finally spring fucking break.
"How accidental our existences are, really, and how full of influence by circumstance."
Louis I. Kahn (via ima9in3)
(via fuckyeahexistentialism)
I’m bored of taking shots.
Is that weird? Totally not thinking right now, and I’m sober.
I started this movie last night, stopped at around 3 or 4am, then finished it just now.
My god. I need a moment to take it in. That poster is misleading. It’s not happy. IT IS NOT HAPPY.
…
Blue Valentine, if you haven’t seen it, is an incredibly raw account of impulsive “love at first sight”, and the repercussions of following your heart so quickly without listening to your head, too. Mostly a character-driven, rather than plot-driven story, this indie film reminds me heavily of the qualities of true-to-life indie films like Juno and 500 Days of Summer. There’s nothing romanticized or idealized about the lives of the characters - it’s straight up, real and uncensored in both how wonderful and how terrible life can take a turn for.
I know that character movies aren’t everybody’s cup of tea, and honestly, I don’t recommend this movie because it’s kind of heavy. People escape to movies and theatre to project themselves on those romanticized and idealized characters, not to see reality thrust back into their faces, and replayed for them. Alas, I enjoy them because it punches me in the face with the fact that everybody’s human, and no matter how much we try to insert ourselves into a wonderland movie, and no matter how much fun it is, we still have to turn the fantasy off when it’s over, and make our own path as the mortals we are.
Fate, fantasy, hope and wonder - they’re guides. Everything else is composed of our own footsteps, and we have to keep walking with that daydream in mind. Both reality and fantasy; we need them.
—
That’s not to dismiss the fact that I still wish for a fairytale, I still wish for things to come true for me, I still wish on stars, eyelashes, 11:11, knock on wood, flip coins, and follow birthday or new years superstitions. I still take solace in the fantasy world of movies, tv shows, video games, books, dreams and my own wandering thoughts. In fact, I mostly reside in that place - my head. In fact, I prefer the fantasy and romanticized, idealized nature of media. But it’s moments when things are sour and ridiculous that I remember that I’m mortal, and that fuck-ups are expected of me. I’m not expected to be a perfect human being, and that doesn’t mean that I don’t try, but there is always room for error.