Jules of Nature
ojovivo
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
RMH
Monterey Bay Aquarium
art blog(derogatory)
styofa doing anything
NASA
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
Three Goblin Art
trying on a metaphor
cherry valley forever

pixel skylines
almost home
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
occasionally subtle
we're not kids anymore.

if i look back, i am lost
hello vonnie
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@maloj
Ok Ken (and David). As much as I hate to make you guys famous or even respond to you directly. We all die one day and you're old so fuck it. Yea yea my 2013 performance at the Grammys was absolute shit. Technical difficulties, blah blah. Thanks for the reminder. Very much appreciated. Fuck that performance though. You think that's why I kept my work out of the Grammy process this year? Don't you think I would've wanted to play the show to 'redeem' myself if I felt that way? In reality, I actually wanted to participate in honoring Prince on the show but then I figured my best tribute to that man's legacy would be to continue to be myself out here and to be successful. Winning a TV award doesn't christen me successful. It took me some time to learn that. I bought all my masters back last year in the prime of my career, that's successful. Blonde sold a million plus without a label, that's successful. I am young, black, gifted and independent.. that's my tribute. I've actually been tuning into CBS around this time of year for a while to see who gets the top honor and you know what's really not 'great TV' guys? 1989 getting album of the year over To Pimp A Butterfly. Hands down one of the most 'faulty' TV moments I've seen. Believe the people. Believe the ones who'd rather watch select performances from your program on YouTube the day after because your show puts them to sleep. Use the old gramophone to actually listen bro, I'm one of the best alive. And if you're up for a discussion about the cultural bias and general nerve damage the show you produce suffers from then I'm all for it. Have a good night.
fem veckor
långa ängar i Skåne
relationer som speglas i bilder på internet
en tyst cirkel av mig vid nattens täcke
I read in the paper that my brothers are being thrown from rooftops blindfolded with their hands tied behind their backs for violating sharia law. I heard the crowds stone these fallen men if they move after they hit the ground. I heard it’s in the name of God. I heard my pastor speak for God too, quoting scripture from his book. Words like abomination popped off my skin like hot grease as he went on to describe a lake of fire that God wanted me in. I heard on the news that the aftermath of a hate crime left piles of bodies on a dance floor this month. I heard the gunman feigned dead among all the people he killed. I heard the news say he was one of us. I was six years old when I heard my dad call our transgender waitress a faggot as he dragged me out a neighborhood diner saying we wouldn’t be served because she was dirty. That was the last afternoon I saw my father and the first time I heard that word, I think, although it wouldn’t shock me if it wasn’t. Many hate us and wish we didn’t exist. Many are annoyed by our wanting to be married like everyone else or use the correct restroom like everyone else. Many don’t see anything wrong with passing down the same old values that send thousands of kids into suicidal depression each year. So we say pride and we express love for who and what we are. Because who else will in earnest? I daydream on the idea that maybe all this barbarism and all these transgressions against ourselves is an equal and opposite reaction to something better happening in this world, some great swelling wave of openness and wakefulness out here. Reality by comparison looks grey, as in neither black nor white but also bleak. We are all God’s children, I heard. I left my siblings out of it and spoke with my maker directly and I think he sounds a lot like myself. If I being myself were more awesome at being detached from my own story in a way I being myself never could be. I wanna know what others hear, I’m scared to know but I wanna know what everyone hears when they talk to God. Do the insane hear the voice distorted? Do the indoctrinated hear another voice entirely?
my room
starts a gofundme for this gucci snake camisole
Ok I need this
me writing here or not writing here. I’m just writing everyday in school and for school, on vacation, at x-mas, at work and in my dreams. all in swedish, mostly poems. that’s what I’m been doing since fall.
céline fall 2016
CITIZEN K Magazine Muse: Mélie Tiacoh
Photo Credit: Nicolas Menu Stylist: Laurent Dombrowicz