reminds me of the classic pitchfork.com/news/44…
yup yup yup. always try to forget that this exists because i’m really scared of quitting tumblr because of drake (i am probably going to quit tumblr because of drake)
i’d tell you to cut
your hair, but it would look too
good and make me sad
oh, what do i do with my free time? hmmm. well, i guess you could say my favorite thing to do is mindlessly stare at a computer screen and scroll through a feed of photographs and art i’ll never make because i’m too busy hating myself for being unproductive. it’s a perfectly self-perpetuating cycle :) i also love to read, but i never do because it’s too hard. could you pass the sugar?
i want to get paid to take pictures at concerts i just don’t know how
+ a good show at the cradle tends to usher in a good summer (st vincent last year). LET’S DO THIS SHIT
yellow and blue summer 13 i.e. if your aura is not blue i dont really have time …….
She slammed the screen door on her way out, didn’t even leave a note. You figured she just couldn’t find any paper, and you were right. Me, I ended up learning the names of all the firemen in Edenton; they never really minded getting my cat Stumpy down for me.
I didn’t know much about you until the summer before fifth grade. You were the girl who had come to live with her grandparents that July. You bought lemonade from us once and showed us the dates on the nickels you paid with. “Nineteen twenty-three,” you said, “that year started on a Monday.” You dropped the coins into the empty cigar box on the edge of the table and spun on your heels, sipping on that lemonade all the way back to your granny and granddaddy’s trailer, barefoot. Dusty on the soles and scraped from broken glass and scrap metal scattered throughout our park. Sipping syrupy citrus, letting its lukewarmth slide down your throat, relishing the taste and feel of a mature August sun. I didn’t know your name until you introduced yourself later in the summer. Rosie. You had strawberry blonde hair and freckles, wore red sneakers with your dresses, had a thing for encyclopedias.
who are you, idiot?