"talk that talk"

sob

and i find myself empathizing. by watching such sad stories, do we not live to the fullest extent, feel to the greatest depths, experience the largest leap? by living the extremes, do we not find our limits? by pushing the limits, do we not define our humanity? is our humanity not a mosaic of metaphors, vignettes, sliding scales of individuals and communities all resonating into one? is our humanity not rooted in our empathy.

hungry hungry lady

FEED ME PEOPLE. LADY HUNGRY FOR TALK.

treefingers

i wonder if treebeard would let me treefinger him

labels

hippiepunkravergoth

variation

ugh, those fuckers. why couldn't they look at the world and see beautiful gorgeous natural variation everywhere, in everyone? instead they took the opportunity to exploit.

we can't stop

NO, WE CANNOT STOP. we can't stop miley and we can't stop ourselves from listening to this song

this "strategic hot mess" is art in the same way that a campbell's soup can was art before warhol; it is pop sounds designed to sell and the real art only emerges in the response to these monstrosities monopolizing our media

beep beep boop

muzaxx

the days

crying alone
watching wolfwood die
understanding seymour
those were the days