Things seem to be picking up at the shop.
Three jobs today.
Total billable hours: .75.
Thy will be done.
Not really a grid, but grid-signifying ornamentation.
Things you thought were important turned out not to be important.
Things you thought were not important turned out to be important.
And at the end of all my searching, all my suffering, I came to understand: I loved the algorithm.
We all have those rare friends who seem to generate an irresistable force field that draws people to them. I have the opposite power; my side of the room is always dependably empty and silent.
Canadian slasher movie with Leonard Cohen in a hockey mask.
When agency people talk about Big Ideas, rest assured that none are coming.
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You just need to rest. A day of healing and rest. Around midnight you find yourself in a Thai karaoke bar down the road from your sister’s house. You vaguely remember Norman Mailer writing that scotch is for people who’ve given up hope, and order one. Midway through your second, watching a stoned girl and her catatonic friend wander listlessly through I’m a Believer, you have your first panic attack.
You’ve always known you’re unremarkable. But now, on your day of healing and rest, curled up on the bathroom floor, you’re spectacular.
Whenever I see an advertisement cut to a soundtrack of “What a Wonderful World,” I always feel like I’m being sold a great big steaming pile of shit.
Pity, that is to say, empathy tinged with ridicule.
the austere beauty of winter
the power of forgiveness
the market is not the economy
nina simone
the male or female gaze
blah blah etc etc
With each creative act he felt a little worse about himself.
Posting food on instagram = act of public defecation.
