How you turn my world, you precious thing.
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I feel like this lately.

Four Year Anniversary

  • Me: "I'm so excited to go back to Dubuque and play music with my friends in a few months. Can you believe we've been doing that shit for five years?"
  • Matthew: "I know, that's awesome."
  • Me: "Yeah. That probably means we've..."
  • Matthew: "What's that?"
  • Me: "I was just thinking. That probably means we've been together for four years as of..."
  • (We stare at each other, then simultaneously realize what has happened)
  • Me: "...Yesterday."
  • Matthew: "FUCK IT."
  • Me (walking away): "FUCK IT ALL."

Coke Talk of the Day


I woke up this morning in a fog thick as soup, an extended version of that final stage of sleep where dreams still have more clarity than whatever reality you’re facing. Some part of my conscious mind had latched onto a key phrase that seemed very important, and I had to memorialize it immediately.

I reached over to my computer still open on the floor next to my bed, and I hit ⌘V on the keyboard, fully expecting it to paste my thoughts directly onto the screen.

Nothing happened. I was confused for more than a second until it dawned on me that even if the technology did somehow exist to bridge a direct neural link to my MacBook Pro, I had forgotten to hit ⌘C first.

I quickly typed out the phrase that was floating in my head, one that dissolved into the ether in the very moment I wrote it. Satisfied, but still not quite awake, I rolled out of bed and began my morning routine.

When I came back to my computer freshly scrubbed and fogless, I looked down to find the cursor still blinking at the end of my dream sentence:

Diagram the gem of the eternal tides.

Yeah. I have no idea what it means either. The only thing I remember is that it felt terribly significant at the time. Still, I dig it. It’s as though I received a mysterious order from my subconscious.

I love that just over an hour ago, I existed in a state where the command to “diagram the gem of the eternal tides” made perfect logical sense as part of some grander dreamscape narrative, and in that unconscious pastiche of people and places that promptly receded into the depths of some black and unrecoverable trench, one tiny little sentence managed to crystalize and become solid, the words dropping like fresh die-cast metal into my waking life, still glowing red from their transition.

I love that every night a whole other hidden world flashes its momentary existence through our synapses. I love that it’s a part of us, but it’s somehow not ours to keep. I love that we occasionally catch glimpses and fragments, and while most of the time they may mean absolutely nothing, every once in a while it can still feel like they’re dripping with magic.

Hello. Everything is beautiful lately. That is all.

Ask me how deep the ocean is.
Shut up.

Ask me how deep the ocean is.

Shut up.

(Source: prewant, via strocka)

The Jesus and Mary Chain

—Just Like Honey


The Jesus and Mary Chain - Just Like Honey

The more you know who you are, and what you want, the less you let things upset you.


A Softer World: 1113
(let’s hang out - TO THE DEATH)
buy this print


A Softer World: 1113

(let’s hang out - TO THE DEATH)

buy this print

Maybe happiness is this: not feeling like you should be elsewhere, doing something else, being someone else.

— Isaac Asimov  

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via aimee-b-loved)