Missing You [Acoustic Version], posted on Billie Joe’s instagram
You read Vonnegut for the first time
when you’re sixteen years old, and
after that, every time you stab, slice, shoot,
every time you throw a match
into an open grave, you think,
so it goes.
It makes you feel good,
a little fuzzy, like
you’re unstuck, and you think, it’s okay
you’ll just be dead for a while.
Your father dies on a hospital floor.
Your brother bleeds onto your hand, his hair
in your mouth, pressed against your neck.
People die in your arms, people who leave
the battlefield behind, who don’t
wake up in bed five minutes
twenty years later and live.
People don’t just get to be dead
for a while. This isn’t fucking Tralfamadore.
So it does not fucking go.
Vonnegut tells you that time
is pearls on a string.
Every moment has already been and will
always be. You say, “Fuck that.”
You cut the string.
Pearls before swine.
Your headstone will read It was ugly
from beginning to end,
and it hurt like hell every second.
Vonnegut dies when you’re twenty-eight.
He falls down the stairs.
So it goes.
There is no such thing
as an honorable death.
Oscar Isaac doing an acoustic cover of Katy Perry’s “Roar” = night made.
HEY SO WHEN I WAS IN THE GYM I CAUGHT AN EPISODE OF CAGNEY AND LACEY
EVERYONE IS ON NOTICE FOR NOT TELLING ME ABOUT CAGNEY AND LACEY, OH MY GOD
me: oh my god guys what if secret history coffeeshop au
me: imagine henry winter trying to run a coffeeshop. that is literally it. that is the tweet. that is my life.
me: IMAGINE HENRY WINTER TRYING TO MANAGE A COFFEESHOP OWNED BY JULIAN MORROW. THIS IS LITERALLY THE PEAK OF MY ARTISTIC CAREER
martha: oh jesus christ
me: this is flat out as good as an idea is ever going to get. this is the apex of my writing. this is it
me: imagine francis as the barista who’s permanently on a smoke break. imagine bunny OH MY GOD IMAGINE BUNNY TRYING TO WORK IN A COFFEESHOP
me: RICHARD PAPEN APPLIES TO WORK AT A COFFEESHOP BECAUSE HE THINKS IT’LL BE LIKE A COFFEESHOP AU
me: richard papen thinks that henry is so impressive and businesslike and that everyone Has Their Lives Together
me: in the meantime charles keeps a bottle of scotch under the counter to spike his coffee to get him through the day
me: camilla tosses her hair at the register and richard is carried away in paroxysms of ecstasy
martha: he pours espresso down his shirt. francis makes a very bored pass at him in the break room as he’s changing his shirt
me: charles also gives an uncomfortably intimate Stare. richard can’t tell if it’s bc he’s shirtless or bc he’s scalded himself
me: julian stops by every so often to carry one of them away on a trip to roast beans and also instill in them his life philosophies
me: ‘and what does one seek in coffee? TERROR, my boy. coffee is terror.’
martha: richard wonders where all these coffee-stained bedsheets are coming from and why everyone whispers in corners these days
me: one morning he finds a carafe full of bits of burlap boiling away. the next-door cat vibrates uncontrollably for a few days
me: ‘there are beans all over the floor,’ richard points out. ‘it’s part of henry’s method,’ camilla says vaguely. richard puts away the broom & marvels at the sophistication of it all. behind him a small child slips & falls in a pile of beans. ‘how plebeian’ he thinks distastefully
martha: richard hopes the espresso machine likes him.
brandon bollig stretching out before
filming a porn moviea game
i need to go to the gym and also sort out mma paperwork but i can’t stop watching youtube videos of the blackhawks winning the stanley cup
i don’t understand how i reached this point
all of them.