Woodstock
was held on August 15-18, 1969. Exactly 25 years after the first day of the festival, I was born. Eighteen years later, and my new address is SE Woodstock Blvd. I’m going to Reed College. eep!
“alone and young and wilful and wildhearted, alone amid a waste of wild air and brackish waters and the sea-harvest of shells and tangle and veiled grey sunlight and gayclad lightclad figures of children and girls and voices childish and girlish in the air”
(Source: defendersoftheuniverse)
Security questions for myWheaton account include: Who is your favorite Bible character? and What is your favorite book of the Bible?
I ain’t even mad. Definitely lol’ing. Score.
25-minute song from Sufjy.
Donald Miller and Andrew Bird are in Portland and I am not seeing either of them. why
lol what
Kittion Rocatovich Felinikov had murdered his landlord only hours before, and for once felt free to leave the apartment building in his finest drag. But as he was exiting, the moon disappeared behind clouds and a haunted presence overtook the foyer. A vision of his landlord appeared. Felinikov froze. He would consent to a lifetime of guilt, he thought, if he could just retain possession of his landlord’s prized fish on wheels. That, to him, was true happiness: To be able to walk about town, with his purse, pulling the fish. To hear the squeak of its wheels. To sense the envy of passersby. That justified any crime, he thought, and was worth any punishment.
I just
want to have a Harry Potter movie marathon.
We’re sliding, slipping, out of the mundane and out of the middle. Running, dancing, your head is turned to the person behind you and you’re laughing, carelessly. You turn your head forward and suddenly you have to make yourself stop. Before falling. Off. The edge. Of the cliff.
