I just want to slowly get wine drunk and watch movies and cuddle with someone warm and laugh at everything.
I'm going to NH on Saturday to visit family.
I will be back the following Saturday. But all I really want is for it to be next Sunday so I can go to the WAB and get two dollar pints. I am afraid that NH is going to be terrible. I am not interested in having my family interrogate me about the rest of my life. Or something.
I was on my back on a marble floor late at night in Venice a couple of years...– Bill Murray (via petervidani) Yes. This basically sums up everything I could ever have to say about anything significant.
SOMETHING, SOMETHING, SOMETHING, DETROIT →
“After suffering through the nation’s worst and most concentrated examples of racial violence, industrial collapse, serial arson, crack war, and municipal bankruptcy following years of municipal kleptocracy, Detroit is being descended on by a plague of reporters. If you live on a block near one of the city’s tens of thousands of abandoned buildings, you can’t toss a chunk of Fordite...
I hate it when:
people call Detroit “the D.” It’s not the D you douchebag, it’s Detroit.
Sometimes when I’ve had a totally shit day I’ll come home and take a shower. Wash everything off - my makeup, my hairstyle. I’ll take off my nail polish. Change clothes. It gives me a chance to start completely over. And it gives me some time to hide from everyone else and refocus. Cooking hasn’t been as much of an escape as it used to be. My parents are driving me crazy.
oldhollywood: David Benoit - Be My Valentine...
If you want to date me, please be:
pretty liberal an atheist/agnostic cute intelligent able to dress yourself someone who reads books and enjoys art not crazy okay with the fact that I am a vegetarian fun
there is so much shit that i could tumble about...
but i had three beers and i don’t really care anymore.
I want to befriend another vegetarian.
I need a break from meat eaters. It gets tiring after a while.
The Account by Lou Barrett
ahuntersheart: Strange to be claimed by a dream speaking a language I don’t speak. On a hospital gurney in a sterile center of bafflement there’s a pencil in my hand and along the edge of the white sheet I draw a perfect circle Later in daylight I recall without clear or evidential memory how the poet Cavafy dying...
thisrecording: You spend so much of your time expecting to become someone else always someone who will be different someone to whom a moment whatever moment it may be at last has come and who has been met and transformed into no longer being you and so has forgotten you meanwhile in your life you hardly notice the world around you lights changing sirens dying along the buildings your eyes...