sketches for a thing
Can this be my life, tho?
Who’s driving the car?
The Spirit of Jazz and the Knowledge of Impending Racism
|—||James Baldwin (via buddingblackflower)|
I didn’t know Kevin Spacey was in The Office
unless you’re utilizing the word “literally” to describe a literal occurrence, please refrain from using it because chances are you are using it incorrectly and are therefore sounding like an incompetent dumbass
This pretentious pseudo-intellectualism regarding…
Microsoft Excel took a turn for the explicit this week when the Internet learned the once-innocuous office tool was being used in a dispiriting new bro-trend: using the software to track of the number of times their partners refuse sex. Yes, #sexspreadsheets are a thing, presumably because some men still believe that owning of a penis entitles them to unlimited sexy times.
in this garden, breathing the colour thought is
before language into still air. Even your name
is a pale ghost and, though I exhale it again
and again, it will not stay with me. Tonight
I make you up, imagine you, your movements clearer
than the words I have you say you said before.
Wherever you are now, inside my head you fix me
with a look, standing here whilst cool late light
dissolves into the earth. I have got your mouth wrong,
but still it smiles. I hold you closer, miles away,
inventing love, until the calls of nightjars
interrupt and turn what was to come, was certain,
into memory. The stars are filming us for no one.
|—||Carol Ann Duffy, “Miles Away” (via petrichour)|