My lil sister bop is funnier than anyone else on da plant
(Source: labronjames4ever)
hobo vampire junkies
On the train and in quiet moments at work I’ve been reading The Orange Eats Creeps by Grace Krilanovich, whose writing makes me jealous. I have not read a story made of so much energy in a very long time. I can barely discern what the story is about - allegedly it’s about “hobo vampire junkies” but mostly I get caught up in the chaotic adventure of the language itself.
one of those days
Where you stay inside
mosey around your apartment wearing flannel,
have a bizarrely beautiful dream about hugging the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen
in the subway while it fills up with water
during an afternoon nap while a thunderstorm rages,
funny jezebel
“Finally shedding the yoke of female dominance of the literary arts, the oft-ignored and long oppressed minority group known as “men” will finally have things to read made just for them.”
Once again, I am forced to faced my conflicted and strong feelings for Esquire, a pub that is way more stylish and smart than the women’s mags but also sometimes stunningly immature. No girls allowed! Very funny (and bitter) write-up on Jezebel.
some terror
Everyone born in the same year as me is terrified right now. The past week has been a celebration of having an excuse to have the same conversation about fearing the future with an ever cycling rotation of acquaintances and old friends. Usually talking about the terror of the unknown so much would be pathological, but in this case, we are more than allowed.
An Update on my Melancholia Experience
The second half of the movie is surreal and as powerful as every reviewer says it is (I know this because the movie left such an impression I had to read all the reviews just to keep the movie in my life a little longer somehow). Suddenly “anxiety” and “depression” are pit against each other in the contrast between the two sisters. There was hardly any dialogue but the idea of human energy and the way it can drain -or sustain itself -was thoroughly explored, just by the way the family tries to handle their world ending. The last ten minutes of the movie is like melting into a painting and feeling obliterated by it. The last ten minutes felt like many of my favorite apocalyptic nightmares and I appreciate that someone put them on film.
Now it’s four in the morning in my apartment and I feel as existentially uneasy as the characters in the movie felt and jumpy when my refrigerator creaks. Long story short, A+ for Melancholia.
LAST DAY OF SCHOOL
It’s bizarre to me that a high-quality strip club would sandwich “Somebody that I Used to Know” between 50 Cent and Tyga in its series of lap dance songs. Talk about killing the vibe. Talking about blowing most of my graduation money…
There are events occurring on the campus right now as we speak, people drunk on the lawn because there was free beer and everyone saying their goodbyes. I don’t like goodbyes and I don’t like beer, so…
At this very second, I’m watching that movie called Melancholia. I was drawn to it because it seemed like the point was to capture and convey as eerie a mood as possible. I liked the idea of an abstract mission like that. And I was right - that’s what this movie is about, mood. The atmosphere is creepy, looming, and sick, like a bad dream where everything is glimmering and you can taste the weather of your own unconscious, and that’s beautiful, but there’s an out of control terror behind it all. Any movie that is apocalyptic will have a shivery sense of bigness to it.
The reason this film in particular is creepy even though nothing outright scary happens - it’s a very quiet movie- is because the director employs techniques that you usually see in horror movies. These quick, jerky, quivery, faraway shots. Kristen Dunst turns a quick corner, and you expect something terrible to jump out at her. Nothing does.
Basically, it’s a well-composed film. Apparently it’s about depression. I’m only halfway through but if that’s the case, its depiction of depression grates on me. One way of looking at this is that it’s about the existential depression of bored rich people and that is annoying.
Another criticism is that Lars von Trier is totally an aryan weirdo. I got bad vibes when I found out the soundtrack is all Richard Wagner, matched with the sight of super blonde couple Alexander Skargard and Kirsten Dunst. Then I looked him up and found out he got in trouble for making all these insane nazi-sympthatizing jokes. Sorry, but even though he apologized, my flawless intuition tells me that that bro wasn’t totally kidding. Yuck.
However, the movie is undeniably, thickly, heavily gorgeous.
I wonder how coincidental this timing was, that I had the out of the blue impulse to watch a movie about the end of the world exactly six days before I end one of the most important eras of my life…
Anonymous asked: What area do you live in? Do you like your neighborhood? How does it compare to others you have lived in?
I live in The Upper West Side, near a park and off an express train. I just came back from a two-almost-three mile run in this park!
I like the neighborhood because I found an atypically cheap apartment in the heart of it and because it’s safe, quiet, and clean. Everyone around me tells me they love it because “they are so many restaurants around there!” I’ve only seen like two restaurants out here so I’m wondering what these people are talking about. There are a lot of nail salons around here, though.
I’ve lived in West Harlem, East Harlem, Bushwick and Midtown. I’d say this is my favorite because of the zen that I feel every morning and night when I wake up to silence, have a kitchen to myself, and sit at my computer which faces an exposed brick wall to write. I’m sure in six months I will like how close my home is to my school, because nothing is more lovely than walking to school.
I also loved Bushwick. Nothing but fond memories of the L train, our view of the skyline from the beat up roof, and the insanity of living in an apartment with sub-par air-conditioning and a bedroom smaller than an airplane bathroom. No, really - I miss Brooklyn always.
