Heyo and wellcome

Die Fußball-WM hat noch nicht mal richtig angefangen und geht mir jetzt schon auf den Sack.

sorry boss can't come in today i was on my way to work and then a gentle spring breeze kissed my cheek and reminded me it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world

I always say that the thing which sets Sargent apart as a portrait artist is that he draws/paints literally every subject - no matter their gender, social position, life vs representational drawing etc - like he is right that minute realising he's desperately in love with them. And it rules every single time.

earlier today i told an acquaintance in passing that i'll often be in the middle of a novel and think "man i wish this shit were more ambiguous" and had to reiterate twice that i wasn't being sarcastic before they believed me, so this post is to say: i love when writers don't bother to explain everything, i love when stories end uncertain and unsettling, i love being required to think as a reader, i love when stuff makes no damn sense, no i'm not kidding

mastering ancient breathing techniques in the mountains of china to control my heart rate finely enough to jam out a sick tune on the hospital’s heart monitor

The doctors figure out after the sixth beep that I’m trying to play Wonderwall and they unplug my life support

Happy Easter.

Getting high on open window air