My Lost Boys Obsession

My mom never used the house computer. One day she uses it for something "why is it so slow?!?" "Uhhh I dunno?" After me and my best friend just finished burning our 1,000 CD from Limewire

i love seeing best friends goofing around in public. i love seeing couples laughing together. i love seeing little kids walking hand in hand with their parents. i love seeing dogs running happily back to their owners. i love seeing closeness and positive relationships, and knowing all that love is out there

I am so tired of short-attention-span, trim-the-fat culture. All writing advice these days is for how to write like Chuck Palahniuk. "Cut 'think', cut 'feel', cut 'wonder' - only action, only pushing forward, show and move and move and move." What if I could emulate this style, and still don't want to? What if I want to write like Henry James, with three paragraphs of introspective musings between each dialogue line? The music advice is, "make it shortform, make it Tik-Tok compatible, make it punchy, hit the refrain as soon as possible." What if I want that 10-minute prog rock piece? What if I want that symphony? What if I want it slow and luxurious and lazy? Movies. Series. Poetry. Bodies. Everything is "trimmed trimmed trimmed trimmed, stripped bare, you have three seconds to win me over, make it airport chic." I don't want to win you over, then, I guess. I want the fat left it. I want the pleasure and the indolence and the indulgence. Fuck this art-advice that's always "your art needs Ozempic."

sometimes being a fan of something means not wanting them to make any more of it

he definitely fucks but there’s no way he fucks normal