This is relevant to my life…
To be myself again. Through this foggy night, I found beauty in the shadows.
"You never reach me, and that’s what makes me happy."
"FEELING: The one where you wake up the morning after too many drinks with a fist of dread in your gut as if something terrible happened last night, some maiming or insult or betrayal that will devastate you as soon as you remember, but the only candidate you can think of is the moment when everyone else said goodnight and you were alone.
HOW TO EAT IT: Stale bite-sized Milky Ways left over from Halloween.
FEELING: The one where the sudden knowledge that someone will never love you drops into your brain chilly and small like a marble through gelatin, and whether it’s right or wrong it can never be extracted through that same neat bloodless tunnel; you will need to plunge your hand in after it and tear up everything.
HOW TO EAT IT: Bread pudding. Mac and cheese.
FEELING: The one where new angles of light from the shortening day make familiar streets look alien, foliage glowing in unearthly hues or disappearing to show hidden corners and carvings on buildings you ought to know, and the gauze of light unfurls along the facades, like a scroll covered in symbols you can’t quite read, and you can feel something bubble up under your breastbone like a hiccup and you think what’s inside the bubble might be happiness but you never know because it never bursts.
HOW TO EAT IT: Go out and get hot cider. Bring a flask.
FEELING: The one where you try to think about the past by standing at the edge and peering over, the incomprehensible depths of it like looking down and down through miles of ocean, and the sick vertigo when you try to focus on something mundane—a favorite chair, a song, a street you drove on—and it plunges you in like a lone explorer in a bathysphere, so fast your ears ring from the change in pressure, and then all that weight is on top of you and you’re looking up and up for a sliver of sky and meanwhile your air is failing, failing.
HOW TO EAT IT: Deep breaths. And Xanax.
FEELING: The kick-drum thud when someone you’ve been bumping shoulders and knees with for weeks, close enough to an accident that it could have been an accident after all, finally touches you on purpose for the first time.
HOW TO EAT IT: Are you crazy? Don’t move. Eat only what you can reach.”
he allowed himself a subtle heh, stamping his e-cig into the undercity dust with his synth-leather decking tabi.
"for guys like me, every day is cyber monday."
can you believe this two bit low life decker?? here at auntie ada’s 24/7 news stand, cyber monday is no joke! we provide all the latest model e-cigs and digi-weeds at a price that no one can beat (NO ONE)!
for today only contact us about our special one time offer: if you buy 25 minutes worth of advertising for any of the news tablets we distribute, for today only we will throw in one (1) free headline change. don’t like the news today? change it!
also don’t forget to ask about our under the counter i l l i c i t g o o d s
december second…..we all know what that means. the net corps have been mandating awareness programs in the quasipublic spaces for weeks. cyber monday. the day of the year that you’re legal required to cyber with anyone who initiates it. time to jack……..in
BIN THAT DREK, CHUMMERS!! GOT A HEX THAT NEEDS EDITING??
BRING IT TO A PROFESSIONAL: BRING IT TO A GLITCHWITCH! COME ON DOWN TO GLYPH WITCH’S GLITCH GULCH
GLYPHS FOR EVERY BUG, GLITCH, SCRUB, MAL, TIC AND WIPE, COMPLIMENTARY GLYPH DECK FOR EVERY DECKER WITH PURCHASE OF HEX OR GIF
GLYPH WITCH’S GLITCH GULCH: BOG ON
I just can’t even tell you how much I love this thread.
Constructing the Hertzsprung-Russell Diagram for Globular Star Cluster Omega Centauri [x]
A macro shot of the human eye. The arterioles appear like the branches of trees in a forest.
mine fire burning beneath the borough since 1962
oh shit this place
this place is literally burning from the inside out
there’s this mine underneath the town that they used as a landfill and years ago it caught on fire
they had to evacuate the whole god damn place because the street was caving in and shit and smoke was spilling out
the fire hasn’t stopped since then and it’s predicted that it will burn for the next
this place not only inspired silent hill but it’s like literal hell on earth
Want to know something even creeper? The only thing still standing in that place is the church.
From Ross Piper’s new book Animal Earth: The Amazing Diversity of Living Forms.
What greater testament could there be to the “me generation” than the rise and rise of the selfie? Anointed by Oxford Dictionaries’ editors as the word of the year after a 17,000% increase in its usage, the selfie is surely the ultimate emblem of the age of narcissism. Like the doomed figure of ancient myth, we cannot stop gazing at our own reflection. This July, there were an estimated 90m photos on Instagram – the go-to platform for the selfie – with the hashtag #me. And that figure will be far, far higher now. At first glance, everything about this phenomenon reeks. It is self-centred in the most literal sense. Not for nothing is the word just a breath – a mere “sh” – away from selfish. What’s more, it’s selfishness of the most superficial kind. It’s not just about me, me, me but how I look, look, look. It invites judgment based on appearance alone. You post a picture of yourself and wait for the verdict, your self-worth boosted by a happy spate of “likes”, or destroyed by the opposite – a resounding silence. At least on Twitter, people are judgmental about each other’s wit or ideas, rather than their hair. To understand the sheer scale – the depth, if you like – of this superficiality, look no further than this Tumblr dedicated to selfies at funerals, including the image captioned: “Love my hair today. Hate why I’m dressed up #funeral”. And yet condemnation cannot be the only response to a phenomenon this widespread, which clearly delights so many tens of millions. The informality of the word “selfie” suggests something true about these instant self-portraits: that they don’t take themselves or their subjects too seriously. To quote the artist Gillian Wearing: “The word ‘selfie’ is brilliant. It really encapsulates a time: instant, quick, funny. It sounds ironic and throwaway.”
Remember GPOYW, guys? Good times.
Paysage d’hiver, 1920
[via Le Journal De La Photographie (currently defunct)]
Physics says: go to sleep. Of course
you’re tired. Every atom in you
has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes
nonstop from mitosis to now.
Quit tapping your feet. They’ll dance
inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.
Geology says: it will be all right. Slow inch
by inch America is giving itself
to the ocean. Go to sleep. Let darkness
lap at your sides. Give darkness an inch.
You aren’t alone. All of the continents used to be
one body. You aren’t alone. Go to sleep.
Astronomy says: the sun will rise tomorrow,
Zoology says: on rainbow-fish and lithe gazelle,
Psychology says: but first it has to be night, so
Biology says: the body-clocks are stopped all over town
History says: here are the blankets, layer on layer, down and down.