[theneondemonfilm]

Draw Back the Curtain

What do you see?

[skinabovebone]

MOST AMERICANS VIEW DONALD TRUMP

THEY SEE LIARS AND THIEVES

BUT THEY THEMSELVES ARE NOT THE REDEEMERS

WE ARE THE PEOPLE

AND WE ARE LOST

THIS IMMIGRANT BAN IS NOT WHAT WE STAND FOR

NOW I STAND IN FRONT OF THE CURTAIN AND WE WILL FIGHT BACK

WE WILL STAND WITH OUR ALLIES EVERY STEP OF THE WAY

[nobroken]

Mr Robot (2016)

[skinabovebone]

Even the slowly fading Mona Lisa is still admiral beauty.

[skinabovebone]

Guys in tanktops. Hot! Now an explanation on why that is:

[hanatrulydaily]

HANA opening for Grimes @ Electric Factory. Philadelphia, PA. June 3, 2016. Photos by Reyna Wang.

[boomingmusicscene]

Grimes @ Electric Factory - 06/03/2016 #Grimes (at Electric Factory)

[skinabovebone]

She was amazing at the Electric factory on the 3rd. She walked the between the lines of thrilling, and sing-along style performance vogue that embraced her new found pop sensibility. 

This is normally in the post where I enter something pessimistic, but I’m just going  to hold off on that. I mean, I do love she picked shit that was recent. But fucking come on, Don’t spoonfeed the audience. That’s what radio is for.

It’s fills seats, just excludes individuality.

What about pessimism? Oh shit.

[tiffaniamberc]

[itscalledthedrag-blog]

This movie also produced what is arguably one of the most badass screenshots of all time.

[skinabovebone]

#NowPlaying Secret (Shh) by Charli XCX

[rodserlingsbitch]

Charli XCX

[skinabovebone]

Cher for Marc Jacobs Summer 2015

I have become obsessed with fashion. Not really because I adore what I put on my back but rather the culture that is the plastic sequin of the past, present, and future of society.

I enjoy perfection. I enjoy art. Most of all vanity.

Vanity is difficult. It is a constant self-loathing, self-critical analysis countless times per day. It is an acceptable form of insanity. And as such we treat Cher among the same space as we treat murderers.

This photo is from Vanity Fair’s fashion issue. It is no doubt a beautiful spread, and sexy. No doubt the majority of readers may actually follow closely to the pages of couture art and periodicals. But it still intrigues many.

And it intrigues me. I desire to live the high life. And I’ve begun to pick Vanity Fair for the simple fact of vanity. It seems cool. It appears hip to an outsider.

But it also induces a “look, but don’t touch” red label across someone’s face.

[skinabovebone]

the menu

The grand finale. This is no joke. I’m serious this time. The words of an addict are true. Only to himself though.

I’m only messing. The truth. The real truth is, it is time to find a new high. A better high. This has been an endless search for eternity. Before it was with food, now with drugs. I heard “dope” is the new shit, but it is not worth it.

I have binged many times. Chew and spit. Chew and spit and become the devil’s bitch.

Though there was more to be desired. More time to assess the situation, contemplating the right connection and right time when it should all work. The endless search for not how much, but what. From whom? And does it even matter in the end?

For awhile I believed it did. But now I have greater plans. I am bored. I need something new. And it fucking pisses off that I don’t know what it is yet. The endless search for someone like me is never-ending because you will always want more.

So I chew and spit. Chew and spit and become the devil’s bitch. And for awhile it worked. I became really fucking creative. An artist in my own self-righteous void. My daily life has become a work of art.

But it is NOT ENOUGH.

I needed more expensive items. Food bought with thought, and processed with much care or lack thereof before making it to store shelves. Don’t think popular, think GOOD. Think fucking high-class and arrogance. With this, came the most interesting combinations. But there is even such a thing as “too much” with addiction.

Sometimes I feel numb. I don’t feel anything and I would give anything to feel something again. Even pain. It really is better than feeling nothing at all. Abscence is worse than excess.

So tonight was Tempura Shrimp, Orange chicken, breton-style croissants, topped with melted English White Stilton cheese, mixed with apricots. The side sauce of choice was horseradish. And caffeine. Lots of caffeine.

Though there is no point to this madness. Which was part of its appeal. A lousy $25.37 total and still nowhere closer to where I want to be.

Which is why I must no longer do this. I chose something else. And there still isn’t a reason.