#dylan jones

[moonlightsmasquerade]

Some doodles that got a lil out of hand :>

[revoltingcocks]

? ok when i write my book about the velvet underground i’ll make sure to dedicate a chapter to john cale’s intense beauty

[findingyourinmate100]

Hey all, my name is Dylan Jones! I'm 28 years old. I stand 6 feet tall and weigh in around 200lbs. I'm from a very small town-Hillsdale, MI where everyone knows everyone. Some of my likes and passions include cross fitness as it offsets my mindset of secretly being a fat kid (having never met a sweet I didn't like, haha). Fitness also helps nourish my competitive spirit. I enjoy all outdoor activities and any chance to spend time with my family. I strongly resent the fact that I live in a world where long walks on a prison yard are as good as it gets for me. I'm really just looking for a penpal to share life experiences with, as well as well as perspective goals. Really, I just want to connect with someone and be a friend to them, and have them be a friend to me too. I'm absolutely not picky either, I welcome every one to write! I am open to ANY and ALL potential penpals! I'm REALLY looking forward to hearing from you :) You can reach me by two ways... If you'd like to email back and forth, my prison currently uses a service called JPAY (you can even download the app on your phone). All you have to do is create an account on JPAY.com, search by state (Michigan), and add my DOC# which is 952124. I should pop up as Dylan Jones, once you add me, I'll be able to see you on my list as well. If you want to write me a letter/snail mail, my address is Dylan Jones #952124 Chippewa Correctional Facility 4269 W. M-80 Kincheloe, MI 49784 (Make sure you use a black or blue pen, no sharpie, stickers, including blank paper/stamps for me etc...if you have any questions please message this account)

[neoglyphicmedia]

ALIVE OUTSIDE: An anthology to obliterate the impending monoculture! A convergence of new voices joining verifiable legends, all tearing at the walls of expectation. Cultural innovation as an impulse. Algorithmically-born tastemaking be damned! This is elemental vitality pressed into a wood pulp manifesto for the messy comedy of creation ~

Collecting work from an international cast of artists, including: Aapo Rapi, Aaron Rossner, Andy Cahill, Angela Fanche, Becchi Ayumi, Bridget Trout, Christian Schumann, Clayton Schiff, Dongery, Doug Allen, Dylan Jones, Eden Veaudry, J Bradley Johnson, Jonathan Peterson, Jordan Rae, Joe Grillo, Joey Haley, Julie Doucet, Julien Ceccaldi, Kari Cholnoky, Keith Jones, Leomi Sadler, Lilli Carre, Lukas Weidinger, Marc Bell, Mark Connery, Matt Lock, Poncili Creation, Roman Muradov, Ron Rege Jr., Shoboshobo, Susan Te Kahurangi King, Theo Ellsworth, Trenton Doyle Hancock

Edited by Cullen Beckhorn and Marc Bell. 248 pages, multiple inset booklets, mixed-process 6-color offset, and extraneous Risograph materials available direct from the publisher.

Edition of 1200 copies. Published by NEOGLYPHIC MEDIA www.NeoglyphicMedia.com

[obritwankenobi]

“the only drug a bitch is on is the tree” 🍃

— unaltered photos

📸: dylan jones / mythic media

[angelic-writer]

Fear of the Deep - Sleep with the Fishes (Not Really)

Day 6 of @augusnippets

Prompts: Car accident/Plane crash/ship wreck

CW: Drowning

Fandom: Fear of the Deep by @moonlightsmasquerade

Cain was always a meticulous planner, barely budging when things don't go his way. Miriam and Dylan had to literally drag his ass out when his oxygen tank got low. He threw a hissy fit not long after. So it shouldn't be that surprising when a pop up storm rolled over the ocean while the trio was out. Miriam tried countless times to tell him to get back to the dock, but he shrugged her off. That's when a rogue wave hit the side of the boat, causing it to smash into the a nearby rock, making the ship split in two. The force of the crash caused Cain to fall over the boat edge and into the water.

He didn't remember hitting his head. All he knew was that one second, he was on the boat, the next, he was in the water. It was cold, so cold. He tried to move his limbs, but they were like lead, refusing to work. He opened his mouth to call out to someone, but the taste of salt greeted him as he inhaled water. Is this how the people that went missing were feeling when they die? Is he going to be like one of them? Miriam and Dylan will never find him, at best finding his body hours away from their location.

What a shitty way to die.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted something glittering in the water. When he took a closer look, he saw a humanoid fish creature swimming towards him along with several more of them, all smiling at him with their sharp teeth. Cain blinked. He thought those things were a myth, but here he was, seeing them with his own two eyes. As if hypnotized by their beauty, he reached out to them. He was just out of reach.

His lungs burned. His vision was growing dark.

As he closed his eyes, he heard one of them speak to him.

"Soon, Cain. Soon, you will become one of us."

---------

As he slowly became aware, he could feel something pressing on his chest pretty hard. Cain wanted to scream out, telling that person "That hurts!" but he couldn't move. He couldn't open his eyes. The pressure stopped momentarily as someone pried his mouth open, pinched his nose shut and breathed into him.

Is someone... trying to revive me?

"C'mon, Cain! Wake up, dude!"

Dylan?

Oh... He and Miriam got me after all.

After what felt like minutes of Dylan (or Miriam? Maybe both.) trying to resuscitate him, he finally responded. Water spilled out of his mouth, the two of them rolling him onto his side so he doesn't aspirate the water.

"Hey, dude. You're okay now. You're okay." Dylan said, trying to catch his breath. Cain peeled his eyes open, seeing his and Miriam's blurry figures.

"Mmm... G'mornin'..." He mumbled.

"Seriously? That's all you have to say? Jesus Christ, Cain, you nearly died! You're lucky we even got to you in time!!" Miriam shouted.

Cain sat up. "Uuuuuuugh, Miri, quit being a drama queen. I just had a little swim, that's all."

"A little swim.- Do you ever take anything seriously?! You need to stop scaring us like that! Imagine what would've happened if you were alone!"

Dylan wrapped his jacket around Cain who was soaking wet. "Yeah, I have to agree with her. You really need to listen to us."

"Dylan, I could've swam up on my own. I didn't need your guys' help." He coughed. Although what he said was true, he could've swam up on his own, but he couldn't move his body. It was like he was paralyzed. Must've been that blow to the head. He rubbed the back of his head, wincing.

"Okay, you need to rest. C'mon." Dylan lifted him up to his feet and started walking him back to their headquarters, Miriam scolding Cain the whole way. He looked back to the ocean, the image of the fish creatures smiling at him repeating in his mind.

He was far away from the dock so how did he get back there? Did they carry him here?

It was hard to concentrate with the throbbing pain.

[chubby-aphrodite]

damn...

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Looking back now, it almost seems as though everything happened at once. In a decade dominated by youth, London had burst into bloom. It was swinging, and it was the scene. The Union Jack suddenly became as ubiquitous as the black cab or the red Routemaster bus, and all became icons of the city...Quite simply, London was where it was at. Fuelled by growing prosperity, social mobility, post-war optimism and wave after wave of youthful enterprise, the city captured the imagination of the world’s media. Here was the centre of the sexual revolution – the pill had been introduced in 1961 – the musical revolution, the sartorial revolution. London was a veritable cauldron of benign revolt.

- Dylan Jones

Photo: Faye Dunaway photographed by Jean-Pierre Biot in London, 1967.