Lupin, Adventurer

The only things that work without rest are machines; literally everything that lives requires rest.

I turned them into individual transparent pngs if anyone wants those premade!

In the summer of 1982, artist Agnes Denes planted and harvested 2 acres of wheat just two blocks from Wall Street, near the twin World Trade Center towers and facing the Statue of Liberty.

Growing wheat on land valued at $4.5 billion was a symbolic act. Her project, 'Wheatfield,' raised questions about food justice, commerce, world trade, economics, land misuse, colonization, food and energy waste, world hunger, and ecology.

This giant wheel game is getting CHAOTIC, Barack Obama 😈

➡️ Go to Dropout to watch new Game Changer now

Would you share parts of yourself with me that you haven't with others?

Would you let me see you at your most vulnerable?

Would you be there for me in the hospital after a surgery i had to tell me jokes and make me feel better?

Would you hold my hand at a funeral which you came to despite claiming you "don't do funerals" and made bearable and tell me I'm too good to quit my career?

Would you keep me around after I betrayed you?

Would you make me extremely proud after you stand up against a sexist bulldozing after fellow female comedians?

Would you see me desperately looking for my father's ashes in a public dumpster and upon seeing me distressed decide to jump in and help me even though you're very mad at me?

Would you listen to me and open yourself up to things you haven't considered before?

Would you let your guard down and let me see your real you?

Would you think I'm too good for you, too good to "waste my talents and time" by your side and try and "set me free" even though you don't want to.. try and be selfless for me after a lifetime of putting yourself first?

Would you want me back after finding each other again after a long time spent apart because nobody else quite gets you like I do, and our passion is our language that only we speak?

Would you want me to help you along in one of the most vital steps in your career because no one else could even attempt to get it right, it needs to be perfect and only we can make it that?

Would you consider me your safe place, your favorite audience, only see me and speak to me in a room full of people, be able to make out the sound of my laughter in a room full of voices just by looking at me?

Would you run all around the city looking for me when I go missing, then without hesitation jump into the freezing ocean to try and save me, because you can't bare to lose me?

Would you apologize for hurting me, encourage me, promise me to do better?

Would you consider me your voice?

Would you change for the better because of me, to the point where people closest to you notice it and are happy about it?

Would you leave behind your life's dream for me, because it turns out it isn't what you want if I can't be there with you?

Would you, despite your base instincts to shut down and deflect, bring yourself to openly and honestly communicate with me about your thoughts and feelings?

Would you throw me a surprise birthday party with all of my favorite things, invite my favorite childhood artist to sing me a song dedicated to "the most special girl in the world" then get tears in your eyes as you stand there and listen to the lyrics and realize that's how you feel about me?

Would you give me your blessing and trust me to "rewrite your story" by taking a project about you and your ex husband and making it into a story about us?

Would you only want to talk to me whilst suspended 100 feet in the air, because I'm the one you trust to get you through this?

Would you want to go away on a vacation together and mean it?

Would you run across the stage to hug me because my work finally got appreciated and it's probably gonna become something big?

Would you want to talk to me before one of the biggest shows in your career because I'm the only one who can keep you calm and help you feel prepared?

Would you want me, out of all the people in your life to spend some time with, just us, in the most romantic city in the world, before you're gone?

Would you want to be the one to show me the finer things in life, like real bread?

Would you want to/make sure to teach me everything you've learned, so that you know I'd take good care of myself after you're gone?

Would you, even though you're preparing to pass away, take videos of me on your phone without me knowing, while you smile your truest biggest smile and look at me absolutely enamoured while recording?

Would you rent out The Louvre just for the two of us, so that we can walk around all we want, uninterrupted, arms linked, appreciating and discussing art?

Would you wear my clothes just because I want you to, even though they're completely not your usual choice of style?

Would you reaching for your notebook to write down a joke we came up with make you realize that you DO want to keep living?

Would you choose to stay alive for me, for the laughter and sense of humor we share, for the thrill of working together to come up with the best joke together by one upping each other, because to you, to us, this, our own language, is everything...we're each other's everything ?

Source

He returns one night to his humble apartment, which is known to have vermin, and comes across a rat, which he could easily kill or set loose on the street.

But the rat- it is special. It seems to speak to him. Promises him every little thing he desires- talent, fame, and fortune. Recognition and esteem like he has only ever seen from afar; fine company like the wealthy men and women whose scraps he picks at over the sink.

Put me on your head, the rat says. Put me on your head and think of nothing.

It is strange at first, yes. Strange to feel another take control of his life and live it better than he ever could. To see miraculous things created with his own two hands, to feel his feet move in graceful and fantastic ways with a confidence he has never had.

But the rat delivers as he had promised: he receives promotions, notoriety, admiration. He is noticed. Envied. Every day is a waking dream, rubbing elbows with beautiful women and handsome men and influential personalities who lavish him with praise. It is addictive, this lifestyle- never mind that he is only ever truly conscious of it as a passenger of in own brain.

It is when he has reached heights few can ever conceive, with all that the rat had ever promised- a beautiful wife in a beautiful house with all the world in his palm, in possession of all the wealth and success a man could ever want, that the rat says that it is leaving.

Leaving? The rat cannot leave. Everything he is, the rat has provided.

"I have delivered on our bargain", the rat says. "I have brought to you all that you have ever dreamed. What more could you desire? I must live my own life, now."

The man is furious. He is terrified. He destroys the rat, in all of the ways that a rat can be destroyed, until nothing is left of it but a fine smear of marinara sauce.

He returns to the restaurant the next day moving like the shell of something hollowed-out and brittle. He cooks well- his fingers remember the movements, his eyes recognize the patterns, his mouth knows without his asking what orders to speak and what platitudes make patrons smile pleasantly with their straight white teeth.

He retains the talents of the rat. The charm of the rat. All the worldly pleasures the rat had provided him.

Still, it seems, he is little more than a vessel for the talents of the rat.

But the rat is gone.

Tempted to actually put this on spotify so I can secretly stream it at work...