May 2012
60 posts
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The amount of dystopian science fiction I’ve been consuming, along with bummer news pieces about my generation’s economic struggles, led to a full blown panic attack on the 24 bus today. A lot of the time I really can’t handle thoughts about The Future and honestly, I don’t know that I really believe in it. I think The Future as a concept hasn’t solidified for me yet,...
I’ve reached some sort of self-awareness “singularity” allowing for almost total nonchalance.
Fragments
At work, my May recommendations include Watchmen, Dune, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Super Sad True Love Story, and The Handmaid’s Tale. It’s not entirely because I’m fucking terrified of the future and what it brings. How each we look to the future in art and literature seems to shift significantly with each generation. This is something I’m still turning over in...
Gargle salt water on the rocks
jacksonnieuwland:
We lie on our backs
on the yacht
like burning corpses
My lisping tongue
is swollen from kissing
The sun won’t set for six months
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“When anyone reads this but you it begins
to be lost. My voice is sucked into a...”
– Section 4 of A Letter to Bunny, Frank O’Hara (via llevelling)
“After the first glass of vodka
you can accept just about anything
of life even...”
– As Planned, Frank O’Hara (via llevelling)
“Ich kriege sehr leicht einen Sonnenbrand.”
– This is an important phrase for me to know in ALL languages.
Pouting.
If you’ve never seen a next-to-translucent person sunburnt, well, here you go. The unseasonable weather San Francisco’s had led me to spend my full Wednesday off on the back deck basking. With plenty of sunscreen, reapplied liberally, but I’m still beet red today. It was fully worth it, but I’m fully regretting having to wear clothing right now. Everything hurts.
or maybe i should watch more buffy.
carpe noctem
sean’s drinking herbal laxative tea and cramming for finals, and i’m watching peep show until 1 am, when i can call my landlady in norwich to pay my application administrative fee.
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Home.
99% sure we got the house on Belvoir Street. Crossing my fingers for a bright blue front door, gated front garden with a young maple, and a sweet home with my babes in Britain.
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reading and rereading jenny holzer’s truisms to avoid my journalling assignment.
