it is easy to forget
how full the world is
of people,
full to bursting,
and each of them
imaginable
and consistently
misimagined.
“consistently misimagined”
would be a choice twitter bio.
u feel, moody ghost?
Month: March 2014
wanderlusty.
ye olde travel itch
has officially landed.
read: i gotta get away
before i can find my way.
suggestions, internet amigos?
two birds.
time is tricky. you have whole months, even years, when nothing changes a speck, when you don’t go anywhere or do anything or think one new thought. and then you can get hit with a day, or an hour, or a half a second when so much happens it’s almost like you got born all over again into some brand-new person you for damn sure never expected to meet.
happy birthday, kimball.
happy birthday, uncle mike.
wed wigwam.
each of us
needs something
of an island in his life
— if not an actual island,
at least some place,
or space in time,
in which to be himself,
free to cultivate
his differences
from others.
at least it’s sunny.
new york today
been killin’ it every damn day.
cannot get enough of annie’s
next level weather snark.
all night.
me: motown philly. discuss.
jo: well, it’s back again.
oh, just drunk dialin’ my favorite philly fatale and tucking her baller response in my little breast pocket of the internet … no biggie.
spring witch.
i have left my book,
i have left my room,
for i heard you singing
through the gloom.
march 20.
last year, march 20th came out of nowhere and hit me really hard. i had started a new job on the 18th, forgot there was anything significant about the 20th, remembered what i had forgotten on the 22nd, realized why my sister texted me she was thinking about me, excused myself for an inaugural office bathroom cry, and felt mostly fucking terrible about the whole damn week. so this year, in the spirit of leading with realness and taking better care of myself-ness and unapologetically asking for what i need-ness …
(1) i took the day off work.
(2) i texted my sister first thing in the morning that i loved her.
(3) i walked and thought and talked about him a lot.
it was sad.
it was spring.
it was real.
keep it quiet.
58 b p m
i’m feelin’ it
my fever
starts to rise
58 b p m
one second ’til
the beat match
gets in time
58 b p m
we can both
peel it back
to second skin
cause 700 miles an hour’s just too fast to take the world in …
waterlust.
water fountain by tUnE-yArDs
the water by wild cub
just keep swimming.
just keep swimminggg.
just keep swimmingggggg.
pep talk.
when did you think
you were the center
of new york’s universe?
why did you think that?
shame on you.
your instagrams aren’t that great.
water boys.
now fairly certain
the root cause of fomo =
music festival season.
dudes on their computer machines.
dudes on their fancy brass string ’straments.
dudes on their game in the pouring rain.
def hold out for →
big gigantic @ 3:10
owen pallett @ 4:35
s14 lookbook.
you have nice eyes.
foreal.
me: what does drake mean when he says “i gotta pull up on you” in mine on the new beyoncé album? like, is she a horse and he needs her to slow down? or like, i’m gonna touch you till you get quiet?
him: pull up on you = take you unexpectedly.
me: freelance urban dictionary.
him: LOL foreal.
me: THAT’S a twitter bio.
by the slice.
“every sunday
in the metro section,
a photographer offers
a new slice of new york.”
– nytimes
vvv about this slicey lyfe.
hard copy sunday times style.
the best unhappiness.
a woman had to choose
her own particular unhappiness carefully.
that was the only happiness in life:
to choose the best unhappiness.
an unwise move,
good god,
and you could
squander everything.
’97 phenomenal.
wedjam.
ooodamn.
esp #3.
how nobody you and i.
drifting off to sleep,
i thought about her.
how nobody is perfect.
how you just have
to close your eyes
and breathe out
and let the puzzle
of the human heart
be what it is.
how i think about you,
how i hope you think about me.
sometimes i can’t crack my own code.
showtime.
youth on a train: excuse me, miss?
ramou: no.