on the space colony i live in, which exists in the dreams of the untouched and lonely – every 50 years the impossibly powerful solid state drives that hold every piece of good art and every book from most of recorded history are backed up and recycled and replaced with new
people who have been surrounding themselves with nostalgia their entire lives. people who surround themselves with the totally new. both cling to youth. people who do neither cling to youth also. the scene in ratatouille when he remembers his moms cooking and cries. 4 months ago i stopped writing to
i love takis. i wanna taki to you on the phone. i don't know if it's menstrual blood or taki dust or both under my fingernails. i don't care what it is. i don't care if i clean it out. my hands are clean to the degree that it matters.
i had a dream i was in the intro for lizzie macguire when i was 7 and hillary duff was tickling my chin or something. i never noticed i was in the intro until i went to go see one of my dad’s friends and their daughter for a
there's a lot of drama going on right now in the defi space. i want to clear the air of any misconceptions or criticisms people might have, because theres a lot of reaction and hearsay and it's just not beneficial for the future of this project going forward, we're a
clarice and i were eating samosas in the 4-20 parking lot and listening to signore wizard's weekend disco show on 68.8. i was on speed so i could hear clarice's chewing, it was getting slower so i knew she was about to say something and she did. "have you
the only winning move is not 2 play and u still win fucked up prizes even if no one answers fucked up questions r still asked i've seen the ugliest thing. i've heard the ugliest word. i've felt the ugliest feeling. i've tasted the ugliest lamb. i've smelled the ugliest