cyparissinos

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me: “hey can you pretend this banana I found outside is a gun?” Gus: “it is a gun” me: “shit you’re a good actor”

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very funny to me when people act like animal farm and 1984 are revolutionary anti government texts that the Powers That Be dont want you to read when they have literally been a part of every standard middle/highschool english lit cirriculum in the usa and beyond for decades. precisely because theyre such convenient primers to propagandize that Commies = Bad. the government is quite literally making kids read them

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La batalla de Chile: La lucha de un pueblo sin armas - Tercera parte: El poder popular (Patricio Guzman, 1979)

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when I become an eccentric billionaire I'm going to buy every house in 10 square blocks of unremarkable suburb. I will have them all furnished and decorated except for (and this is key) one house in the dead center. this house I will put up for sale at a ridiculously reasonable price for the area. once it sells, and the new owner/couple/family moves in, the plan will spring into action.

every single house besides the one in the center within my 10 square blocks will remain uninhabited. I will put all the lights inside on timers so that it appears that people are living in there, I will have lawns mowed when I'm sure everyone in my victim house is at work/school, I will have decorations put up during the holidays and cars moved there and parked in driveways when I'm sure that the owner/couple/family in the house at the center is not there to witness it happening. I will produce all the superficial trappings of life without a single person actually being there.

who knows how long it'll take them to realize that something is wrong? when their kids are playing in the yard, and they notice they've never seen another child around here even once, despite the four-bedroom family homes all down the street? after a few weeks, when they realize the lights in the house across the way click off at exactly 9:45, on the second, every single night? when they've been living there for a month and a half and they realize they've never seen a single car park in front of another house? when they want to greet their neighbors and not a single house in the whole neighborhood opens its door?

when they do realize that they're completely alone here, what would they do with that fact? what would you do if all at once, as you stood in a crowd, you realized that every single person around you was a mannequin? it's unnerving, sure, but enough to warrant a move? how long will they live in this idyllic ghost town before it gets to them? can a person survive in a dollhouse? Thank you. *I wave to the crowd as I walk offstage at my ted talk. one person gives a halfhearted round of applause from the back. a talk about sustainable ecosystem management was scheduled for right now and no one knows how I got up here.*

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5 years ago i was a fucking mess & now i’m a fucking mess but at peace with it and with cooler fashion sense

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Working late, Michael Wolf

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Very good and very sleepy boy somewhere in el Sayeda Zeinab area, Cairo. 

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Anthony de Bree, A Collie and Four Ponies (1893)

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Along the Coast (1958) dir. Agnès Varda

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it must suck to do an assassinate and have everyone cheering you on and hyping you up cuz you can’t tell anyone you did it. you have to keep that information to yourself.

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An Argali mountain sheep killed by its own horns.

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Art forgery is the best crime tbh. It requires absolutely incredible artistic talent, technical skill, and attention to detail to make convincing fakes. Does anyone get hurt from it? No! The only people who suffer for it are the extremely wealthy who want the prestige of having original paintings in their own homes. It’s full of international intrigue and mystery. Perfect.

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there r real teens out there who think discovering nirvana is a special achievement 

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Out here there isn’t city noise or disapproving relatives. There isn’t bosses, law men, or hurry. Nobody you gotta prove yourself to and nobody to judge us. Out here there is a thousand stars and a single moon. Out here there is the rustle of sagebrush and the bitching of coyotes. Out here there is dirt and leather and a little fire burning hot enough to cook a good meal. Out here is me and you, some cows, and our horses. Out here there is closeness and comfort and freedom. Out here there is a world of our own, a dark and empty desert full of life where lovers can sit and be alone outside. 

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Kitten... you know Daddy loves you... but you've been... shit I can't even call this naughty... you forced a man to do Fortnite dances until his limbs fell off. Kitten, I'm sorry, but you're going in the makeshift Brazen Bull for this one.

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The sun and the moon chase each other around the little earth like lovers around the kitchen table after one threatens to tickle the other. The moon is mischievous, fingers flicking and tickling the air, grinning like a fool and stalking like a playing cat. The sun is boisterous, screaming and laughing and bursting with joy, running and dodging and begging to be caught. They catch each other sometimes. When they do it is spectacular. And we feel blessed to watch. But even when they don’t catch the other, when they go a nice long time without catching each other, they revel in the game. They continue round again. Lovers around a kitchen table. Playing with their love.