Credit

you're not really here,
it's
just
the
radio.

Anonymous: Second fatal motorcycle crash in goshen this month.

Oh.

4:26 am
I mean, it’s been a good night
Anonymous: Long ago, and oh so far away, I fell in love with you.

Before the second show….

ain’t that a daisy
mikejtownsend:

Tomorrows Tulips
joy-division-blog:

Lyrics of “Atmosphere" Joy Division, written by own hand of Ian Curtis.
inspired to paint puppies
lemonvevo:

eyan-j:

this dude just drew a perfect circle by hand.

Fuck

most calming thing I’ve seen on tumblr
"I use my time walking and counting my steps between each crack in the sidewalk."
- 4:10 pm
activeoblivion:

Fried Delights

I’m experiencing an existential crisis every morning now. As well as nights and really, throughout the days. But it’s at it’s peak in the mornings. I feel bland, items are bland, food is bland, coffee is too sweet, alcohol is too bitter, my thoughts won’t organize in a creative manner, nor in an organized matter at all…the house is dirty, the cats are bored, conversations bore me, I can’t keep my attention to a new movie or a new song, work is work, serving pizza is a joke, but an easy joke…I can’t get a full night’s sleep, but I’ll be too tired to do anything productive in the late hour, so I’ll just lie there until I drift off and come to again. I can’t think of anything to write. I’ve been trying to re-write a novel for a while, nothing happens. What am I supposed to do? I can’t survive on patrons’ tips forever. I’m anxiously waiting to be able to afford the parts necessary to get my motorcycle running, but it feels like it’s taking a decade. Should I go to school? Take the bus every day? Move somewhere else again? Do a bunch of hallucinogens and make my house an artsy fun dome? I suppose I could charge admission, (kidding)
I really want to make music. I need the funds for equipment. I live next to a goddamn venue with open mics every Tuesday. Or any venues within 3 miles. Nobody knows what they’re “gonna do when they grow up” and junk, but at least most people have a lead, a sense of the path they’re supposed to follow.

I spend most of my time wasting it.
Nobody will read this anyway. It’s too long. Too much shit to read. But I feel a little better, I guess. Blog smog.