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My journal is half public (art posts), and half private (writings and photos).
Add me, and I'll add you back.
<3
Add me, and I'll add you back.
<3
17 Spoke | Speak
Lost in Transatlanticism;
You smoke your boyfriend's smoke, whether he loves you or not.
21 January 2012 @ 06:02 pm
24 November 2009 @ 05:42 pm
SADNESS OF THE INTELLECT: Sadness of being misunderstood; Humor sadness; Sadness of love without release; Sadness of being smart; Sadness of not knowing enough words to [express what you mean]; Sadness of having options; Sadness of wanting sadness; Sadness of confusion; Sadness of domesticated birds, Sadness of finishing a book; Sadness of remembering; Sadness of forgetting; Anxiety sadness...
--- Jonathan Safran Foer (Everything Is Illuminated)
--- Jonathan Safran Foer (Everything Is Illuminated)
19 November 2009 @ 09:36 pm
10 November 2009 @ 11:25 pm
"Strange.
There are a hundred things she has tried to chase away the things she won't remember and that she can't even let herself think about because that's when the birds scream and the worms crawl and somewhere in her mind it's always raining a slow and endless drizzle.
You will hear that she has left the country, that there was a gift she wanted you to have, but it is lost before it reaches you. Late one night the telephone will sign, and a voice that might be hers will say something that you cannot interpret before the connection crackles and is broken.
Several years later, from a taxi, you will see someone in a doorway who looks like her, but she will be gone by the time you persuade the driver to stop. You will never see her again.
Whenever it rains you will think of her. "
— Neil Gaiman (Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders)
There are a hundred things she has tried to chase away the things she won't remember and that she can't even let herself think about because that's when the birds scream and the worms crawl and somewhere in her mind it's always raining a slow and endless drizzle.
You will hear that she has left the country, that there was a gift she wanted you to have, but it is lost before it reaches you. Late one night the telephone will sign, and a voice that might be hers will say something that you cannot interpret before the connection crackles and is broken.
Several years later, from a taxi, you will see someone in a doorway who looks like her, but she will be gone by the time you persuade the driver to stop. You will never see her again.
Whenever it rains you will think of her. "
— Neil Gaiman (Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders)
04 October 2009 @ 04:00 pm
13 September 2009 @ 09:35 pm
"Death of the punk zombie"
(click to make bigger, hi-res coming soon)
One quick update, a picture done for my digital illustration class... now back to avoiding reading modern art philosophy...
31 August 2009 @ 03:59 pm
“We are threatened with suffering from three directions: from our own body, which is doomed to decay and dissolution and which cannot even do without pain and anxiety as warning signals; from the external world, which may rage against us with overwhelming and merciless forces of destruction; and finally from our relations to other men. The suffering which comes from this last source is perhaps more painful than any other.”
21 August 2009 @ 01:23 pm
04 February 2009 @ 07:13 pm
Go-Go-Gadget Photos!
Warning: Image Heavy.
Includes:
Franklin Ave
Cats
Band Promo Pictures
( Click click click )
Feeling: 
tired
tired