This blog may or may not be written by a 45 year old high school drop out who spends her nights in seedy Parisian dive bars, discussing politics and whether or not Rock'n'Roll still exists.
Hello.
I’m writing this in size 12 Adobe Garamond, the same font used in all of the Harry Potter books. I know this because I researched it. This proves I love books. I also love writing, from cover letters to short stories to tweets to obituaries.
The last one is a lie.
I’m honest. I’m hardworking. I’ve had five thousand odd jobs (that’s a lie) and I’ve worked incredibly hard at every single one. I graduated from SFSU with a Bachelor’s in Creative Writing. I try not to give into fads but I swear-to-God I loved zombies before everybody else.
I’m trying to get my foot in the door with a ____ ____ job. My family works in the industry and my friends work in the industry. I am at the mercy of the universe. I can offer a hardworking girl who doesn’t complain, always listens, learns fast and is great with people. Fricking GREAT with people. I’m tall and can reach that dusty old Encyclopedia you’ve forgotten about on the top shelf. I can answer phones. I can make you the best cappuccino foam of your life. Walk your dog (although I’m allergic - minor setback). I can watch your kids; I can take your car to the carwash. I can speak a little Spanish, at least enough to pay, at the carwash.
If you put a little faith in me I will restore it ten fold. Everybody needs to start somewhere and I want to start with you. Thank you for your time, I look forward to hearing from you.
— Bob Marley (via -boyhoodbravery)
(via semiluminous)
(Source: irysik, via allumezmoiunecigarette)
‘Life is Beautiful’ installation by Iranian artist Farhad Moshiri. Made by stabbing knives directly into the gallery wall to form the phrase.
(via farewell-kingdom)
I found this story I wrote for a friend awhile back. It made me miss my old self.
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Erik is a twenty something year old boy who enjoys wearing striped shirts and growing thick, dark mustaches. He sits on the veranda of the Costa Rican mansion and watches pink and orange clouds mix above the setting sun. A dolphin might jump in the distance and he might smile, but most likely he will go inside and count martini olives.
Dana enjoys the mansion. She spends her time finding hidden treasures in the deep closets and reminiscing of past parties. So far she has collected the following: one Tiki head, a pair of teeth-cracking cufflinks, a silk green scarf, three dusty glass beer bottles, and a locket. Trying tirelessly to open the locket she is unsuccessful and gives it to Erik.
Erik steps on the locket. He sees no use for sentimental things; something his mother shakes her head at. The locket gives under his weight and produces two photographs. Unfortunately these photographs will never be revealed seeing as he is to trip on one previously mentioned Tiki head in front of a gigantic hearth, dropping the treasure into a roaring fire.
This fire will however produce a spirit that will eventually kill Erik. The spirit awakens the previous partygoers corpses from under the house, who in turn are hungry for human flesh. Fortunately Dana is not human, she is mermaid posing as human in order to write her underwater thesis paper on human adaptability at the Swordfish University (go SU!).
The first corpse to arrive is Priscilla. She was sixty-five when she died and is wearing a tattered green boa and shimmering gray dress, which oddly enough resembles mermaid scales. She’s replaced one of her finger bones with a delicately long cigarette holder and points it at Erik as she walks slowly towards him.
“I’m sorry I have to do this.” She says.
“Your English is remarkable!” He remarks.
“Oh really? You think? I tried so hard when I was alive, but look where that got me.” She laughs, smiling and batting what remains of her eyelids.
“I think it did you quite well,” He says, “In fact I would insist that you accompany me to the veranda for a glass of sixty-five-year old wine.”
He sticks out his arm.
“Well isn’t that fitting.”
She wraps her bones around his soft pink skin and
they make towards the balcony.
Priscilla is not what kills Erik. Dana, who remains extremely susceptible to jealous behaviors (mermaid trait), finds herself smitten with the idea of throwing Priscilla’s bones off the veranda and into the sunset colored waters below.
Rushing towards the two wine drinkers, her legs begin to buckle and she realizes she is becoming half fish yet again. Feigning she can reach them in time to save herself from falling, she misjudges and falls towards Erik, thus pushing him off the ledge and into the dark waters below. Here, he dies.
Finding her thesis research abortive she retreats back into the mythical waters, waving at Erik’s floating remains as she goes, leaving the mansion to the corpses and martini olives.
(Source: foxycleverpatra, via pinkandinked)
