the rural juror

Um…Ben Feldman. Welp.

robothugscomic:

New comic!

Yeah, I might have watched a movie and gotten kind of mad.

This is seriously a trope I’d love to never see again though.

There were always in me, two women at least. One woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.
Anaïs Nin (via amandaonwriting)
yourllbeanboyfriend:

Although it wasn’t even 7:00, the heavy clouds and impending rainstorm made it look like it was much later. Mitchell and I rushed from the car to the house. “We’re not going to get anything done tonight,” Mitchell said. “This is cuddle weather.” 

yourllbeanboyfriend:

Although it wasn’t even 7:00, the heavy clouds and impending rainstorm made it look like it was much later. Mitchell and I rushed from the car to the house. “We’re not going to get anything done tonight,” Mitchell said. “This is cuddle weather.” 

Woke up at 3:30 am DYING for avocado. Drinking a glass of ice water and now my kitten is attacking my toes.

ryanpanos:

Theater Series | Hiroshi Sugimoto | Socks Studio

Starting in the late 1970s, Hiroshi Sugimoto took pictures of cinemas interiors and drive-ins with the aim of encapsulate the whole lenght of a movie in a single shot. He left the camera shutters open throughout the running of a movie and the glowing screen of the cinemas was left as a trace on each take. A somehow uncanny light resonates in the dark cinema halls. At a further glance, this central light ethereally underlines the rich architectural details of the theater interiors. You might want to confront Sugimoto’s work with Michael Wesely’s, a photographer that uses to take photographs featuringi  3 years long exposures: read “The passing of time“, (on Socks).

"what kind of life you dream of? you’re allergic to love."
yes I know but I must say in my own defense
it’s been undeniable dear to me, I don’t know why
when every other part of life seemed locked behind shutters
I knew the worthless dregs we are,
the selfless, loving saints we are,
the melting, sliding dice we’ve always been.

"what kind of life you dream of? you’re allergic to love."
yes I know but I must say in my own defense
it’s been undeniable dear to me, I don’t know why
when every other part of life seemed locked behind shutters
I knew the worthless dregs we are,
the selfless, loving saints we are,
the melting, sliding dice we’ve always been.