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have YOU 🫵 thought about gideon nav today?

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The Year by Chen Chen

In January I wonder if Father Time ever likes being called Daddy. In February I injure my left foot. In March I chortle. On March 31st I realize there are 31 days in March.

In April I eat healthy while watching too much TV. In May I make a decision about snail figurines (more, please). In June I flail but do not fail completely. Later in June

I wonder what it feels like to be the second “a” in Aaron. During the summer solstice I lie face down butt naked in bed with the standing fan pointed at my behind.

In July I chortle, I even cackle in one park, then another, I laugh as though I don’t know I will die or like I know I will return as a glittering

sound. In August I almost learn to play volleyball. At the end of August my lover says, Bless you, bless you, oh wow bless you,

one for each sneeze, which is impressive, as there is so little time between them. By the way, do the days of the week ever get jealous of the months? I think

Tuesday gets jealous of September. Just a hunch. In September I am steadfast, I am devoted to the wall calendar as well as

the desk, the phone & computer, loopy Gregorian & gorgeous lunar, I worship all calendars while despising the ever-quickening passage of time.

In October I reschedule a dentist appointment. In November everything murmurs. In December every soul’s pulse is loud. By December 5th or so

I am ready for the new year but not for January. I ask Daddy Time why January why. I ask if he could give me more July if I gave him head. I ask if

he would prefer being called Sir. At 3pm on the 31st of December it is not over. At midnight on the 31st or is it now the 1st

I wonder what it would feel like to feel alive, to be living every single one of Sir Father Dad’s seconds, & whether anyone on earth could stand it.

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this one

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Still thinking about none houses left grief, and while I understand where people are coming from, "it took me out of the world" is just... Really not a relevant criticism here. Like, that line is SUPPOSED to be jarring. It is supposed to be kind of darkly funny, but the point isnt for you to laugh. Its not trying to be a punchline. The point of that line IS to "take you out of the world" because the point is that *this world isn't what you thought it was.*

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People who have never taken public transit before seem to be under the impression that everyone on a bus is ready to stab you meanwhile I have never had that problem and I get to read while I’m stuck in traffic and they don’t.

Also I don’t get stuck in traffic much anyways because the drivers keep going on the freeway even though it gets clogged up with traffic and it’s literally faster to drive on the surface streets where the busses go but whatever I don’t need to pay for a gym membership because I walk to the bus and meanwhile what are you spending your money on? Oil changes so you can keep getting stuck in traffic?

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I will be honest guys, the Red portrait of king Charles is gorgeous asdfghjkl

it's a bad portrait. Like. Objectively. It does the opposite of what's intended. It looks like the painter is insulting him. If it was in a contemporary gallery with no context you would see it immediately as the ambivalent criticism of Charles's reign, how he fades into the overwhelming red background as a tiny little figure, small and insignificant, insufficient for the clothes he's wearing. It reminds my of Goya's portraits, how they were so 'realistic' that they ended up making these great figures look pathetic to the viewer. So these are our rulers?

the sheer novelty. the surprise and shock, the kinda cunt it's serving for no reason. I. I love it. It's an incredible portrait by Jonathan Yeo. By the sheer fact that Charles, the man, is impossible to portray as greater than man because he's just such a nothingburger of a dude. So a portrait made to make him look huge and interesting made him be swallowed in red brushstrokes. The butterfly, that reminded me immediately of " we will all laugh at guilded butterflies", draws more attention than him. It looks like an omen. It looks like a warning in all this red. Something is not right here.

This is the best royal portrait ever 10/10

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Julien Baker covers No Children by the Mountain Goats + an introduction from John Darnielle

➕

Excerpt from “I Hope We Both Die: How The Mountain Goats Wrote The Ultimate Anthem To Dysfunction” an interview with John Darnielle

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unsung benefit i think a lot of ppl are sleeping on with using the public library is that i think its a great replacement for the dopamine hit some ppl get from online shopping. it kind of fills that niche of reserving something that you then get to anticipate the arrival of and enjoy when it arrives, but without like, the waste and the money.

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you ever get surprised by your own recurring issues. like come on man. I thought we were past this.

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Good morning, you have to be the thing that saves you

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“Mental Health Awareness Month” oh im aware of mine alright

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Leila Chatti, from "Postcard from Gone"

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ykno the thing about poetry is that 99% of it is bullshit and the other 1% will cut you like a material knife, and for every person that 1% is a different section of the whole. this is probably true about all art.

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In her essay Less TikTok, More Screaming, Persinette writes that these e-therapists have turned healing into “a religion, a lifestyle, and above all, a brand” while promoting a culture of isolation and individual optimization. In this ecosystem, “...therapy has become a litmus test for social belonging and inherent goodness, a sign that one is aware of and has adapted to the newest standards of how to behave.”  The social standard this culture offers is one of controlled, placated solitude. Its narrative often insists that you’re surrounded by toxic people who are trying to hurt you, and the only way to ever become the person you’re meant to be is to cut them all off, retreat into a high-gloss cocoon of talk therapy and Notion templates, and emerge a non-emotive butterfly who will surely attract the relationships you’ve always deserved — relationships with other “healed” people, who don’t hurt you or depend on you or force you to feel difficult, taxing emotions. And finally, your life will be as frictionless and shiny as you, alone, have always deserved for it to be.

Rayne Fisher-Quann, no good alone

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My god my girlies

MY GIRLIES. I am still crying, I am still crying about this. Every day I cry about this.

You bitched so hard about being forced to read 1984 in school when it’s so problematic (tm)

Maybe you should have actually paid attention when you read it

Because all these AI fics

You are LITERALLY MAKING THE GARBAGE NOVELS FROM 1984 that are written by machines

You have literally recreated the worthless soulless machine-made books

Literally,

Literally. Every once in a while it hits me in a fresh wave of disbelief and anger. You have literally created the dystopian book from the dystopian story about why dystopia is bad, and you are passing it around like it’s this amazing thing. I’m crying, I’m crying.