will smith everybody
he’s so aggressively proud and determined to direct attention to his wife and son. first he’s like, LOOK AT THIS BEAUTY AND STRENGTH AND POWER AND SHE AGREED TO MARRY ME, and then with his son, he’s like LOOK, I MADE A THING, AND I AM PROUD OF THIS THING THAT I MADE.
luv u bb
I am just out of frame of all of these pictures doing to Will Smith what he’s doing to his family members.
when i find myself in times of trouble
john darnielle comes to me
speaking words of wisdom
“hail satan”
(Source: hinatakuns, via oykevalt)
Early sketches for The Great Gatsby cover by Francis Cugat. Pair with the most intelligent meditation on the recent Gatsby cover controversy.
KEEKS, by Keeks ›
8 track album
Self-written, self-recorded, self-produced (aka shitty) “album.” Enjoy, y’all. And my friend, Tyler, has ALREADY remixed a song of mine, which you can listen to here, which also means I’m famous already.
“I ain’t never made a doll before, and it came out perfect!”
This guy harassed my friend on the J train, telling her things like his “son” (the puppet pictured) thought she was pretty and wanted to play a game with her, despite being told repeatedly that it made her feel uncomfortable and asked repeatedly to leave her alone.
So. Uh. Yeah.
“After sex, you curl up like a shrimp, something deep inside you ruined, slammed in a place that sickens at slamming, and slowly you fill up with an overwhelming sadness, an elusive gaping worry. You don’t try to explain it, filled with the knowledge that it’s nothing after all, everything filling up finally and absolutely with death. After the briskness of loving, loving stops. And you roll over with death stretched alongside you like a feather boa, or a snake, light as air, and you … you don’t even ask for anything or try to say something to him because it’s obviously your own damn fault. You haven’t been able to—to what? To open your heart. You open your legs but can’t, or don’t dare anymore, to open your heart.”
—Susan Minot, from “Lust”
Art Credit Sandra Gamarra
I Livetweeted 'The Great Gatsby' 3D ›
Thank you, Tao Lin.
(Source: muumuuhouse, via 19841979)
“When someone asks, ‘Which three books have meant the most to you?’ I can answer without having to think: The Great Gatsby, Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, and Raymond Chandler’s The Long Goodbye. All three have been indispensable to me (both as a reader and as a writer); yet if I were forced to select only one, I would unhesitatingly choose Gatsby. Had it not been for Fitzgerald’s novel, I would not be writing the kind of literature I am today.” - Haruki Murakami
YUSSSSSSSSSSS.
Still
“Chances Are” still knocks the wind out of me. It’s been so long and we’re so far removed, but that song is full of ghosts that were ghosts in the first place. I hear those piano chords, and I can’t help it, and then I get angry that I can’t help it, and then I get skeptical of ever being able to help it, and then I get indignant at not feeling capable of helping it, and then I get sad at feeling so powerless to help it, and then I’m crying for a lot of reasons, and I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. Is confusion preferable to clarity, however cold, cruel, or deluded the latter might be? I wonder if it’ll ever go away, that shallow inlet somewhere in my lungs that immediately drains when Johnny Mathis sings. You haunt that song, but if anyone came out of this feeling like a ghost, it was always, is always me.
