i want the deep, down silent things that are locked in your heart.
the beautiful innuendos of future, the streaming bittersweet decline, the inanimate objects we call home. my discarded, heartless ramblings, destined to never see seriousness until the light at the end of the tunnel flickers out.
the hovering bird goes to sleep.
go back to bed.
all i want is to put my hands between your ribs and know that i'm somewhere in there.
you know how they say 'do one thing everyday that scares you?' what happens when you do that one scary thing everyday for so long it stops scaring you. . . . and just plain exhaust you?
Hi Everyone-
It's been a really rocky rocky term, so I'm not posting much lately.. but here's something to make you smile.
for some reason she really likes to sit on top of the kitchen cabinets and watch what's happening below.
At some point a talented person becomes a brand, and once a brand often times their thought becomes product and product sells. This is a classic example of celebrity products (see anything recently launched by a rap star).
The trend of simplicity in design isn't a new concept. Scandinavians are renowned for it for centuries, yet we still seek a way to self manifest a minimal complexity in order to satisfying the maximum number of imposed constraints we create in a world filled with cognitive overloads of white noise and meaningless messages.
Perhaps looking for universal quantitative laws is unreasonable?
Maeda, much like Tufte preaches the same thesis, the foundation of simplicity is the key to build a strong design/UI/product/business/life. He carries the Zen like feng-shui trend even further but attempting to bring back normalcy to our uberconsumer culture by ironically having you buy more: his book.
assignment 1 show and tell studio:
We should start dancing tango" he said, sullen and indifferent. "It’s depressing yet makes you want more."
I wasn't sure if he was talking about me, or her or the dance or both. There was distance in his eyes. We had just fucked for an hour, and on my birthday nonetheless. He didn't get me a gift; so I thought maybe that was suppose to be it.
I felt that feeling I felt before, I've always dated the strong mysterious types. I always thought I was drawn to them because it allowed me to think whatever I wanted to, they don't explain themselves so you have to make definitions for yourself.
"We used to dance it all the time, until she moved away." He paused like he was hoping for a change.
"They move away a lot, don't they?" asking like I wanted an answer but more I wanted to hear what I wanted to hear but never hear anywhere but in my own thoughts.
All those answer I hope for but the questions I never want to ask.
"I think sometimes about how much you've moved,” he said.
"I guess I just kept waiting to find a reason to stay, but I never have."
I talk a lot about my friends lately, you know, the married ones, the ones with kids who send you the pictures that make you feel like everyone's life is perfect but yours. I guess I just wanted to see if he had a reaction or maybe I just wanted to see if he would sweep me off my feet and we’d ride off into the sunset to somewhere far far away and live a happily ever after.
He didn't offer either, they rarely do.
I guess I realized a few days ago I want to get married one day even if I’ll never admit it to anyone but myself.
You don’t love him but you think you do and you might as well fall in love with someone you feel that way about my mother would always say. I guess she's right; she always is in hindsight.
"If I move, I'd hope you would come with me."
He didn't respond like he never responds when I'm hoping the most. He grabs my hand tighter and moves his lips softly across my shoulder.
I never expected to be alone at twenty-seven, just like I never expected to really love. I always find flaws or something wrong or they forget my birthday or hate flowers or are allergic to my birds. At some point in past relationships, if you can call them that, I realize that being alone is better then being with someone who doesn't really cherish you at any level but a fuck.
I told my friend with eyes full of tears a few nights ago in the hall outside my graduate department, over the phone, because it seems to be the only way I can express anything these days "I can't help but think I'm going to be alone forever."
"Things will only end up the way you want them to." Easy for her to say, I'm not sure she's ever spent a night without someone in her bed.
See, I am in New York, I keep telling myself, as an experiment. I have come here to get away for a while from the sharp edges of the continent, to see if maybe I am done with edges generally. People are supposed to accumulate with age, but I seem to be sloughing off, like a person wrapped in a hundred million layers, tearing one off at a time, trying to get down to me.
