Wayne White paints huge words like FANFUCKINTASTIC on landscape paintings found at the thrift store. I love this series of word paintings because it’s like a big fuck you to the art world but still so impressive. I recently watched a documentary about Wayne White, Beauty Is Embarrassing, and I highly recommend it.
this is how i feel right now
COLLEGE IS SO TEDIOUS
i cannot handle this.
i’m going to burst through the glass doors and into the sunshine and bathe myself in wine and beer and sunshine and frolick through the complex cataclysms of connectivity that i have built for myself
(but really, I’m going to spend 9 hours in my place of work being driven insane by the mess of file transfers that is novices navigating FCPX sans firewire drive and talk about the geology of snoqualmie pass because undergrad requirements and money)
Favorite Movies: Before Sunrise 
“I believe if there’s any kind of God it wouldn’t be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between. If there’s any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it’s almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.”
Well, I finally saw this. Speechless, really
my face when someone tries small talking with me at work I’M LISTENING TO THE NEW LAURA MARLING SHUT UP I DON’T CARE
these songs flow seamlessly into one another like a giant mega thought flow/memory recall in song form
my friend did a project on memory and spatial intricacies a la Guy Debord, only in Seattle in 2013 and in the ID. This is the “map” I drew, two to three weeks later, based on my visceral memories of that experience spending 20 minutes alone, walking through the Seattle International District. Take it for what you will.
when people who treated me poorly during my freshman year, now feel entitled to favors from me at my place of work which I both can’t, and won’t, grant= BAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH
"The fact that he does not tell me the truth all the time makes me not sure of his truth at certain times, and then I work to figure out for myself if what he is telling me is the truth or not, and sometimes I can figure out that it’s not the truth and sometimes I don’t know and never know, and sometimes just because he says it to me over and over again I am convinced it is the truth because I don’t believe he would repeat a lie so often. Maybe the truth does not matter, but I want to know it if only so that I can come to some conclusions about such questions as: whether he is angry at me or not; if he is, then how angry; whether he still loves her or not; if he does, then how much; whether he loves me or not; how much; how capable he is of deceiving me in the act and after the act in the telling."
Break It Down by Lydia Davis (via lostinthesounds)
perfectly captures the neurotic aspects of an exploitive relationship. so glad I’m past that phase in my life (for now, anyways)
i think what’s awesome about living in a world with 7 billion people is that even if you fuck up your entire life it has literally no effect on anything
this is really, kinda grossly far from the truth. unless you live on a desert island, or in a vacuum, or both, you’re accountable for your actions and your actions affect other people.