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Photo-Series by Bogdan Gîrbovan About How Different People Live In Identical Apartments

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Dang

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“Hands Mystic” Pin // LisonLaMorue

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very few things will make you feel as free as going on walks at night

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cant have sex with my IOS wife because my dick doesn't fit her portussy so now i have to go to the shitfuck apple store and buy the like 200 dollar strapple

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oooohhhh ok. the more you deny yourself the more you lose yourself

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As you all know I've been rabid for Severance the past few weeks, and I've been mulling over various theories, ideas and character arcs. But I did notice that food is a running theme on the show: food, its absence, its uses, its meaning.

Severance is a show about connections, what happens when we lose or lack them, and how we can grow by developing these connections and relationships to other. Food is often used as shorthand for community and togetherness, and Severance uses food -- or the lack of it -- to help underscore these bonds, whether broken or whole.

Mark, a grieving, alcoholic widower, is rarely shown to eat. His normal post-work routine is beer or whiskey or wine on the couch. There's no montage of him even making a lonely bachelor dinner. He typically eschews food entirely outside of his interactions with others.

When Devon tries to pull him out of his house and away from himself, knowing the anniversary of his wife's death is approaching, they find themselves in a dinnerless dinner party, a pretentious, masturbatory bit of nonsense. The participants describe food as mere fuel for higher things, and not worthy of weight in and of itself. But these are hollow people, tactless and empty. Their relationships are plastic. There is nothing real about them, and thus, nothing real about their "dinner party."

The only real relationship that is explored here is Mark and Devon's.

Which is where we see the healthiest, freshest, and most filling meal of the show, lit with golden warmth, made by Devon and given to Mark. Their relationship is real, their connections are real. Their food is real. Devon asks Mark about therapy (he's not going) and Mark drinks from a hip flask (he's ill, but doesn't feel a need to hide it from Devon). The food in this scene underlines the strength of their bond.

Mark's other attempts at meals go less well. Mrs. Selvig/Cobel nearly force feeds him cookies; he eats them out of politeness, but the batch of burned ones in her kitchen shows that the effort to connect in this way is doomed. He goes to Pip's VIP area and is accosted by Petey before his food ever arrives. Later he and Petey share a pizza, but we don't see Mark eating, and the pizza looks sad and listless. Petey is trying to form a connection with him, but Mark is unable or unwilling to reciprocate.

A relationship that Mark does truly try to cultivate is that with Alexa. However, it doesn’t go well. His first date with Alexa is entirely foodless, though he orders a second whiskey while they sit with empty plates. He ruins the date later by aggressively arguing with people downtown, his defensiveness fueled by whiskey, and heads home alone for a beer.

The best he manages to do with Alexa is to decline alcohol at his second dinner with her and enjoy some fries -- and this is their healthiest interaction, where they mutually extend the date and Alexa comes home with him. Food as connection.

Contrast ordering whiskey number 2 in an empty restaurant on their first date, with being good with only water and having at least fries in a restaurant that shows more warmth, more liveliness, other couples. It's a healthier step, and one that almost gets Mark to a better place, until he runs out on Alexa in the middle of the night.

His worst meal, and the only time we see himself having his own food in his house, is when he scours the news for information on Graner's murder, makes an ass of himself to Alexa, tears up Gemma's photo, and grieves her more than ever. This is not sustaining. This is not healthy. It's a fucking bag of potato chips and a bottle of whiskey for dinner.

In contrast, innie Mark doesn't fare much better. The food at Lumon is doled out purely as soulless rewards for work the innies must perform. The food is precisely regulated, either with tokens or with Milchick's falsely cheerful deliveries of bizarrely regimented melons and eggs. Lunches are provided and noted on the list of the senior refiner's duties, but we never see the innies get to enjoy them, if they are indeed enjoyable. Food is fuel. Food is incentive. Food is out of their control.

Even the vaunted waffle party, lauded all season, requires taking a refiner away from their team so they can eat alone, where they then put on a mask and watch other people in masks. Food as separation. Food that encourages distance rather than fostering closeness.

But slowly, the innies begin to band together. They realize their prison is cold and cruel, that they have been deprived of basic, vital, precious relationships. Helly realizes that her own escape is not enough, and she wants the others to find freedom too. Dylan realizes corporate incentives mean nothing in the face of his son’s embrace — and he insists the others deserve the same chance to experience their own lives. Mark begins to realize through Ricken’s book and their new experiences that self-worth and community are vital goals. And Irving realizes his love for Burt is beautiful, Kier be damned.

The egg bar, coveted as fuck, is actually good. So is their teamwork. Their friendship. Their connections, finally recognized by all of them as more important than punishment or toeing the line or making it through another day.

So they plan their rebellion, their chance to break through to the outside world, to honor their mutual struggle and their bond. Dylan gazes upon his reward, a glass cube of all of them united; and Irving, excited, determined, triumphant, says:

“Let’s find out what’s for dinner.”

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will be eating oatmeal every day for a few weeks either in the morning or in the evening

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Chris S. Johnson After the Ache (1996)

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art i love pt 6

shar coulson / holly warburton / huguette clark / karen mathison schmidt / laura lacambra schubert / carol maine / poul friis nybo / leila courtillon / erin hanson

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Sufjan Stevens | Will Anybody Ever Love Me?

Chase away my heart and heartache Run me over, throw me over, cast me out Find a river running to the west wind Just above the shoreline, you will see a cloud Tie me to a tiny wooden raft Burn my body, point me to the undertow Push me off into the void at last Watch me drift and watch me struggle, let me go Cause I really wanna know Will anybody ever love me? For good reasons, without grievance, not for sport Will anybody ever love me? In every season, pledge allegiance to my heart Pledge allegiance to my burning heart

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Milchick: I stopped the otc, hired and fired 5 people, commissioned a 3 minute long propaganda claymation, carried pineapple gift baskets on my motorcycle which was really hard to do-

The Board: Thanksss :) here you go :)

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