Crapidy Crap

- Britney for making fun of her when she had her breakdown

- Monica Lewinski for judging her when she was a 22year old temp sexually assaulted by the most powerful man in the world

- Ke$ha for ever thinking she was trashy when all she wanted to do was make party music

- Kristen Stewart for ever thinking she was dumb when she’s actually one of the coolest people ever

- Megan Fox for ever thinking she was just a slut when actually she was an actress being harassed by her employer. 

- Hating all the women who made a career out of having a hot body. Being is shape is hard, beauty is a weapon and auto promotion is hard work. 

- All the Mary-Sues, who exist because young girls everywhere want to be part of a story they love so much

- All the female characters I ever snobbed because they got in the way of my ship.

If memories could be canned, would they also have expiry dates? If so, I hope they last for centuries.

My tribute to Chungking Express.

My tablet’s still busted, but I wanted to do somethin cute for Halloween

leaves and flowers and trees growing out of abandoned houses and cars, smashing glass windows, invading and reclaiming the spaces humanity took from them

warning scrawled hastily on the sides of buildings in spraypaint or in blood; don’t come here, it’s not safe. turn away, go back. we died here. you will too.

notes and messages scattered across the world, addressed to people who never saw them or never lived to reply to them. rachel, we’re alive. david, don’t look for us. amy, dad got bit, please come home, we need you. kim, i love you. 

people broken into tiny groups. society shattered. they are past the anger, past denial, past trying to fix any of it. now there is only begrudging acceptance, and the knowledge that nothing is ever going to get better. the only thing they can do is survive.

a skeleton lying at the foot of a tree, flowers blooming in its ribcage. a bloodstained note in its front pocket. ‘sorry, mom’. travelers see it and barely spare a thought; such things are commonplace.

roaming packs of dogs and cats still wearing their collars, centuries of domestication breaking down under the need to live and to keep living

families born of blood and sacrifice. trading stories over campfires about who they used to be, who they might have been, what they could have become if none of this ever happened. looks of understanding when someone loses a sister, a brother, a father. it happened to me, too.

abandoned bedrooms combed over for supplies, but the faded posters still hanging on the walls and the useless knickknacks on the shelves tell the stories of the people who lived there years ago

rest stops on highways

trails by the highway just out of earshot of traffic

schools during breaks

those little beaches right next to ferry docks

your friends living room once everybody but you is asleep

the lighting section of home depot

A lot of these places are called liminal spaces - which means they are throughways from one space to the next. Places like rest stops, stairwells, trains, parking lots, waiting rooms, airports feel weird when you’re in them because their existence is not about themselves, but the things before and after them. They have no definitive place outside of their relationship to the spaces you are coming from and going to. Reality feels altered here because we’re not really supposed to be in them for a long time for think about them as their own entities, and when we do they seem odd and out of place.

The other spaces feel weird because our brains are hard-wired for context - we like things to belong to a certain place and time and when we experience those things outside of the context our brains have developed for them, our brains are like NOPE SHIT THIS ISN’T RIGHT GET OUT ABORT ABORT. Schools not in session, empty museums, being awake when other people are asleep - all these things and spaces feel weird because our brain is like “I already have a context for this space and this is not it so it must be dangerous.” Our rational understanding can sometimes override that immediate “danger” impulse but we’re still left with a feeling of wariness and unease. 

i need sad mono boy joon to be happy namu boy joon

Mono out now