Lately I've been feeling like Guy Pearce in Memento.
just going through my tabs and seeing what goofy shit i’ve been thinking about the past few weeks. kinda like these pants. they’re from bronson mfg co. they do kinda heritage stuff but it’s not at the prices that say real mccoy or any of those other
photos
I never liked the term ”photo dump”. Although there isn’t really any other way to characterize this. The term “dump” seems careless to me, disposable. I care too much about composition to really “dump” anything. Even if I know I’m going to delete something a couple minutes later
fashion
Charles Hamilton. A name. Well obviously it's a name. One that used to be a lot more popular and spoken with more positivity in its tone. The term "genius" often followed it and with good reason. Many times it was uttered as an acknowledgement of a
photos
Lately I've been fixated on slow aperture speeds. You know just playing around with light and how it travels and refracts and reflects and things of that nature. How it creates little trails at it goes. Light is quite fascinating actually. All these random waves moving at speeds
soundcloud
Everything sounds like noise to me lately. I hope harmony can come. Also count the syllables on that.
poetry
we were walking down catalpa carrying an old chair we smoked some grass the chair was knoll we passed by an old continental funny that the lake was ahead, frozen over looked like a chocolate shell cracked, like all of us you said it looked like the end of the
aew
Last year was disappointing to say the least. Running around in circles ultimately in vain. Connections severed or muddied or left incomplete. Mostly a year of befuddlement and pain. Oftentimes the two were linked. The combination of the two has left me in a position where I have more questions
andrew cuomo
in april of this year beth israel on the east side closed due to budget cuts. this is the continuation of a long process of hospital closures that began under the quasi literate hobgoblin the world knows as andrew cuomo(whose incompetence and general incuriosity about the world is closer
poetry
the window is ajar it almost sounds like white noise keeping me awake the garbage smell washed away along with my plans for later and my boots everyone wore five years ago we all end up washed hard gear rendered soft just to turn hard the next day brittle to
jay z
that shit that makes your soul burn slow. kinda says it all doesn't it. it was vulgar, it was childish, the beat was actually kinda bad, but i'll be damned if souls didn't burn slow in the wake of ether. as i write this,