February 2012
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i like radiohead okay? →
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Femme skills are devalued even as they are deemed necessary. And if you deviate...
– I’m Tired of Apologizing for Liking Girl Stuff (i.e. FEMME SKILLS)
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I’m a full-on rapist, you know. Africans,...
whenyouweresleeping:
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read this but don't watch the clip it is not very... →
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Anonymous asked: That is much too far away. It was not sarcasm, so I am glad you're flattered, you really should be!
Anonymous asked: Where are you from? You're great.
THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE HAS COME TO:
-class
-read for class
-write for class
-intern
-write for purple sneakers
-conveyance
-library
-sleep
-sex
-sex
-drink excessively
-try and find a spare second to read or write for myself
-nope, no spare seconds, gotta get to class
-write ads for the digital arena
-food can we get food can i see you while we get food yes
-weed
-buy another block of chocolate
-don’t shop...
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She rises up out of a sea of faces and embraces me, embraces me passionately—- a...
– Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer (via clavicola)
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sweet teeth, i'm building a portfolio →
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because i like metric →
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Anonymous asked: Are you awake?
Walk of shame- but I mean he said laters before he went to work- so I’m not that ashamed. Hipster bear shirt time!
I kiss you; you’re beautiful.
think of something for me to write satire about
gotta write fiction gotta do it now
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HI. I AM UNNA BE IN UTS VERTIGO. GO GET ONE GO GO...
get your friends to get one for you.
you know you want to hear me swoon over george clooney and tell you that hey nazism and religion are incompatible in terms of plot. three hours is too long.
my write up on the top 10 songs for the... →
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flowers flowers flowers
sore ribcage
ivgetjiggy:
THE BAD OPINION GENERATOR
a collection of history’s most ironic predictions
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An Almost Made Up Poem - Charles Bukowski →
lafheck:
I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny they are small, and the fountain is in France where you wrote me that last letter and I answered and never heard from you again. you used to write insane poems about ANGELS AND GOD, all in…
seancing:
when you grow up your heart dies
this too shall pass