Just a blurry photo of me and my soul mate.
In other news, here is a list of things I accidentally perioded on today:
1) fancy sofa at coffee shop
2) bike seat
3) bench at bus stop
4) seats in the two classes I went to today
5) a bit on my pants (naturally)
6) two seats on different buses
7) friend’s bike seat
It just crept up on me without mercy. Here I was thinking that today’s lectures left me oddly turned on. The worst part is, I am strangely proud of this. Too graceful to function, too classy for this world.
Kat’s reaction to reading my text messages.
All I desire for my birthday is a drawing of me and Karl Marx awkwardly rollerskating together. I dreamt of this once and the musing image burns my tongue and leaves the taste of honey in my mouth each night. The colorless silence, as it were taken from Vertov himself, meshes with Karl’s thin bare legs while they creep from his short shorts. His beard flows in the wind as if he were leading a viking army to victory on skates. Our faces stare ahead, unmoved, emotionless, but our fingers lightly touch. There’s an unapparent warmth in our hands that only those who have tasted the torment of passion and the affliction of reverence can detect. Our expressions are somber but hold back the frenzied chaos that accompanies the nature of humanness. Don’t forget his shorts.
Answer:
Why, thank you! So, would I choose physical attractiveness over the ability to deduce the workings of the universe and the dynamics of the abstract? Would I prefer to be an empty yet appealing sack of bones with no depth or humanity? Probably not, I only see my reflection once or twice a day so it would definitely not be worth it.
#troll
I almost forgot! Valentine’s is tomorrow and I need to properly advertise myself to show the world I am readily available.
Beauty is the mark God sets upon virtue. You are looking at the face of virtue right now…
Some excuse of a human noticed I was listening to Ray Charles on the bus today and humored me: “Oh, Ray Charles is a guilty pleasure of mine too!”… When the fuck did Ray Charles become a guilty pleasure? The Boy Least Likely To or Passion Pit can be deemed as such, let’s be honest, they are generally talentless but catchy. Be careful with who you call a “guilty pleasure” on the bus or overly sensitive, presumptuous girls will aggressively blog about you when they get home (while eating kale).
YO DAWG, I heard you like being pompous so I put pretension in your arrogance so you can be haughty while being ostentatious.
Here we have a family photo of my printer tenderly holding me as I weep because it is stuck in the archaic period and refuses to function at the most convenient of times. This was taken just this morning.
