1. From across the street to the car, It wasn’t the echo of her black heels on pavement, or the way her auburn hair bounced with every inch she carried herself under the amber streetlights, or how she saw right through him with empty eyes when she opened the passenger door. It wasn’t the, “Hurry the fuck up, Jordan.”
    It was the first time they met at that Bruin frat party with their backs pressed against walls. It was the way their words stumbled out of their mouths, and how they bent down to pick them up because they cared enough to hand-deliver their pasts and presents with shaking hands.
    It was, “I remember you held my hands still because you saw they were shaking,” when they lay under white comforters shaded gray with the blue morning in a Santa Barbara beach house they rented out for a weekend. Their thumbs ran over their swollen lips and their toes made the sheets whisper. It was the condom he crinkled in his wallet when searching for bills to pay for their afternoon ice cream that dripped onto their lips which they smeared off with sloppy kisses.
    It was the third time she sucked at his lips and clawed at his back in the women’s handicap stall. Her mother was a couple doors down in a coma. It was when she strained tears into his shoulder, but she had cried all the tears from her childhood scooter boo-boo’s and her teen angst pillow talks. All her blues left her brown eyes, and pocketed themselves into the bags under her eyes. It was when she what-if’ed the possibility of feeling every emotion possible, and that every following emotion was a lesser form of the original. It was when they were in their thirties.
    It was when they were in their twenties, living together, occupying the years with numerous arguments over the open toilet seat or the unreplaced toilet roll or the shitty parking in the garage so that when either of them squeezed in between the car and their cardboard boxes of junk, dark smudges appeared on the sides of their suits and dresses before work. It was the numerous times they thought about ending the relationship. It was the numerous times they felt unfulfilled, and how, “one person cannot fulfill all your needs.” He said that. She believed it, even though she denied it. It was the numerous times they were stuck in traffic thinking about the future. It was the rare times they would wake up in the middle of the night scared about death..
    It is the youth and embarrassment they feel even when they are sixty. It is the daydreams they wish to live, and the physical bucket list they privately stored in their imaginations, noting whose idea was who’s in each other’s grocery list handwriting. It is the way they see themselves in their son and daughter, and how they see their son and daughter in their sons and daughters. It is the dust mote moments they will later regret not appreciating when they happen.
    “Hurry up, Jordan,” he hears again. And he does.

    — It Seemed Like A Single Moment Brought Her There, via (shotdownartist)

  2. ”..and when he arrived, in the present, it would seem like it had been a single movement that brought her there. Did existence ever seem worked for? One seemed simply to be here, less an accumulation of moments than a single arrangement continuously gifted from some inaccessible future.” - Taipei, Tao Lin

    And I wonder how I got here, and how I’m measuring 2014. In the number of times I’ve missed you? Or the number of times I’ve smiled? It’s a little of both to fill the planetless space within me. “Where are you?” catches me off guard, and I answer, “Where am I?” Oh. I’m in Mac Demarco’s Salad Days album. I’m Tao Lin’s Taipei. I’m in Childish Gambino’s brain during his interviews.

  3. pnwbot:

Queen Anne, Seattle


    Queen Anne, Seattle

  4. March Playlist →


    1. Adventure Club | Do I See Color
    2. Blue | Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word (feat. Elton John)
    3. Cat Power | Sea of Love
    4. Childish Gambino | We Ain’t Them
    5. Daughter | Smother (Tennyson Remix)
    6. Dillon Francis & DJ Snake | Get Low
    7. Frank Ocean | Thinkin Bout…

    Check it.

  5. I don’t love writing, but if I were in a relationship with it, we’d be in our mid-forties, clinging onto each other because we feel and understand through a combination of twenty-six symbols we feed through our systems in order to survive.


    shotdownartist (via missingsaga)

    again, if you haven’t followed Elvin ( themissingsaga) go do it!!!

  6. http://missingsaga.com/post/80383548429/perhaps-the-reason-why-i-put-you-on-a-pedestal-is →

    Perhaps the reason why I put you on a pedestal is because you’re serious about love. You have no time for half-assed relationships, and deeply invest your time and emotions into the people you love. You deep-root yourself, and when the river runs dry, you die a feline death, knowing you have…

    Elvin ( themissingsaga) is a cool guy. Go follow him~

A journalist wore slippers to protect the glass floor of the ‘Step Into the Void’ enclosure at Aiguille du Midi mountain in the French Alps. The structure is a five-sided glass structure installed on the top terrace of the mountain, with a 1,000-meter drop below. (Robert Pratta/Reuters)

    A journalist wore slippers to protect the glass floor of the ‘Step Into the Void’ enclosure at Aiguille du Midi mountain in the French Alps. The structure is a five-sided glass structure installed on the top terrace of the mountain, with a 1,000-meter drop below. (Robert Pratta/Reuters)

    (Source: untrustyou)

  8. vivasaurus:

    Fog in Atlanta, Georgia

  9. dorkly:

The new X-Men movie looks great


    The new X-Men movie looks great

  10. Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape; it’s a way to make contact with reality after a day of making things up, and it’s a way of making contact with someone else’s imagination after a day that’s all too real.

    — Nora Ephron, I Feel Bad About My Neck (via shotdownartist)