Such a beautiful little Toronto thing. I love you, Afie, keep ‘em coming.
will byers stan first human second
RMH
Peter Solarz

Janaina Medeiros

izzy's playlists!
Cosimo Galluzzi

shark vs the universe
taylor price
we're not kids anymore.
tumblr dot com
noise dept.

ellievsbear
AnasAbdin
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
🪼

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
hello vonnie
KIROKAZE

Kiana Khansmith
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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@centophilia
Such a beautiful little Toronto thing. I love you, Afie, keep ‘em coming.
So a few things have come about since yesterday: My partner moved out, I’m a single mom and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a herniated disk. I’m not sure what tomorrow will bring, but I’m hopeful that it will include a new Ryan Adams record, a pint of ice cream, and a vat of epsom salts.
rebirth
On the night of the solstice I turned 40. I walked alone by the wharf lined with boats lit up by the syrupy golden light of the midnight sun. It felt right that I was alone. I had been alone for a long time. And now I’m back in the land of dark nights, of long shadows in the afternoon and tea that throws steam. And I’m alone. I’m starting all over again, like someone has picked me up by the needle mid-play and dropped me into the first groove. Right now there’s just scratching and popping and I’m not even sure what kind of music is going to come from this. Please, just let it be beautiful.
File under “need”. (via https://www.etsy.com/ca/listing/178830051/my-so-called-life-altar-candle-angela)
I recorded this cover of New Order’s Age of Consent last year. Sharing is caring!
I took a trip to the local second hand store this afternoon and found a few amazing vintage dresses. This one fit like a glove and is being spun into possibly the best Halloween costume ever. Can’t decide if that’s going to be Sharon Tate (above) or Lana Del Rey...
Very important reading material. From Kim Gordon to Patti Smith to Carrie Brownstein, I’ve been filling my inspiration tank.
Boy
I zipped up his green rain coat, handed him the mitts that are now a bit too snug, and held his padded hand as we made our way down the street. Freshly loosened leaves swirled in the gutters above the piles of the matted down and mucky early fallers. I half listened to rattling chatter about Minecraft and lunchtime.
We paused together at the corner and waited to cross. A beautiful boy on a bicycle flew right through the stop sign. He had the soft floppy brown hair and deep brown eyes framed by absurdly straight brows that reminded me of all the boys I’d spent my high school years daydreaming about. Distracted years of stomach churning and shaking hands. How many boys with the same brown hair and eyes had I fallen for? How many pages of my diary were covered in scribbles and scrawls devoted to them?
As he coasted by on his ten speed, sitting tall, one hand on his backpack strap, I felt a distinctive yearning for him. Or maybe not for him. For me. I longed to be the age where I would have yearned for him. I would have noted the exact time he’d pass the corner so that I could catch a glimpse of him each morning. I would have spent hours daydreaming, flopped down, belly up on my bed with my headphones on, about how I might stage the right meet-cute introduction. I’d rehearse my words so they’d present as the perfect mix of nonchalant and interesting.
I held the little hand tighter as we made our way past the corner and further down the sidewalk towards the back yard of his school. The sky was still holding on to the moon which shone, luminous and swollen, against the early morning blue. I pointed up and crouched down to pull him in. “I love you to there and back, you know,” I said as I nuzzled him into the nest of my arms, deeper into the folds of my scratchy Icelandic sweater. Such a beautiful boy.
Just adorable. New Order - Temptation [OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO]
I got a beautiful tarot set after seeing them in the Jivamukti studio in Union Square. My friend had been using them in a way I hadn't seen before: she would simply pull a card each morning and meditate upon the message and see how she could take the wisdom into her life. In other words, she had a very informal and intuitive approach.
After I had my own set, I started to do the same. Each morning I pulled a card and checked the little insert, and used the words to help guide my thoughts around particular issues. But then I made the mistake of googling the deeper meanings of the cards I was pulling. Suddenly the beautiful moon card (reversed) with the word "intuition" attached to it meant: "You are in very dark times. You may experience hauntings. You are experiencing delusions, anxieties, discomfort and turmoil. You are more psychic than usual however the messages are easily confused and misunderstood." Ok. Back to pulling the pretty cards with one word to guide me. I'm clearly not ready to pull the haunting card.
Brilliant. Frightened Rabbit - The Whole Of The Moon (BBC Scotland Hogmanay Show)
Stream All Things Must Pass by George Harrison & Ringo Starr on All Things Must Pass [CD-02] for free on Grooveshark.
back here
I've nearly forgotten how to post here, it's been so long. The other day I took a stroll down memory lane via the /archive option and found myself spiralling into some deep identity crisis. Who wrote that stuff? Is it still me? Have I just pushed this morose, melancholic person into the shadows because a chin-up positive type is much more congruent with my "job"? Or have I actually shifted?
I read posts about drinking and darkness and loneliness and despair and recording music and making art and yearning for things beyond my reach and I admit to feeling a pull, an aching to know her again. In one particular post I reflected on my changeling nature, my tendency to fluctuate with the tides and be this person then that, to be passionate about this thing then the other thing. I even predicted 5 year cycles. I've been shifting into this healthy place, this yoga space, for 5 years now. I love teaching and I'm an obsessive student. But I remember. I think she's still in here somewhere, this restless girl. This chaotic spirit who finds answers too simple and calm too banal.
I'm itchy in all the wrong places.
peeking
on the wall
My street in the storm.
huffpostcomedy: Someone combined Ikea Monkey with Spanish Jesus and art is over now. Everyone can retire.