yeah... birds.

Jul 12 2014

ryanandmath:

How to read math. You’d be surprised how far this will get you.

(via on-reflection)

2,678 notes

Jul 05 2014

i know of relationships in which one person says “cute picture” and the other person says “thanks” and they do this every couple weeks?

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praise the prosperity of our glorious 2,014 year old american empire, the empire that has shown its strength and empirical righteousness ever since our primal father adam smith birthed benjamin franklin, the ever studious savior. he who traveled the lands asking what good he had done that day in harmony with the animals, which over the course of brilliant american science would become our most populous servants and nourishment. praise on this day that was yesterday the radiocarbon dating that gave us our lineage, and the assurance that above all subjective fallacies, the truth of the invisible hand has a conquering initiative to weather the ages in our christian empire’s favor.

May 25 2014
May 24 2014
May 21 2014
true story!

true story!

1 note

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pity sex - drown me out

the lyrics reference raymond carver’s “what we talk about when we talk about love.” they sing, “there’s nothing to talk about / when we talk about love.”  i lent a collection of his short stories by the same title to an ex-girlfriend. she never returned it, and to my knowledge never read it either. i remember staring at the ceiling while she slept early in the morning, seeing the paperback on the floor, rereading it out of boredom…

2 notes

May 19 2014

Wow, Owls! - Chris, Did You Ruin the Dance Party?

we speak in circles in speak with tripping tongues tripping over our own saliva secreting from our wounds. these lame metaphors are metaphorically tearing at my heart strings. if you want some child’s play with words, you want it, you got it. but i’ve been proving that words are meaningless. the answer is yes so you can lead your exegesis to your cross. wipe that cheetah off your lips. its your leopard like style which keeps me swept away under the puzzled patterns of your mind where you don’t think ill hide. swept away under the puzzled patterns of your mind where you cant lock me out. and all the soul singers can sing straight up “i wish you still called me.” your words drip with sincerity. your words could wash me clean. make the kitten coo. stroke the felines fur. you mask your own desires. she masks her own desires. why cant we say what we want to? why cant we say what we need to? i’ve been buried around these same old broken homes that we found. these words could fill six bottles. raise them to your lips; sink them to your stomach. we could fill ourselves on empty calorie conversation. you used to speak for something, now you just recycle shit.

my name is chris, i had a really bad night on saturday, and this is a little too real.

May 13 2014
captain earth.

captain earth.

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死の手 by father figure

screamo is the flavor of the morning.

1 note

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