if ever any

art is made for us to enjoy, that's the whole reason it exists. it works, because it is made by other people, who are more similar to us than other nonpeople. you like some art. just like everyone else.
y/n?

well i spent five years in a strange strange land

the first year everything was so heavy and i was the most articulate person in the world.
the second year everywhere was hospital green cold and i kept spilling things.
the third year was soulcrushingly boring except there were bikes.
the fourth year was when i suddenly started needing people.
the fifth year i spent procrastinating and carrying my 2003(2007) smile around to unleash on the shocked&pitying masses when the time comes.

her şeyi birden istemek

i'll still be able to read a novel and talk like its characters for the next two days. and the lovely things i won't have i don't have now either. sometimes investments &c.

adventures in modesty

turns out it isn't muttering under your breath every once in a while. it's giving up and writing breezily ridiculous also awful things. and let the nice people the nice people be nice people.

*this is a brave new world where sporzasbilan is georestricted.