Cee-Lo - Fuck You
I am trading hurricanes for sunshine and a city of “models” for a city of “actresses”. Los Angeles bound…
Have you played shuffleboard this summer? If not, can you really call it a summer?
Sunday with a pitcher of Pimm’s Cup.
To Tumblr’s men of discerning taste and sartorial wit, might I suggest you to consider the “Military Tie Tuck” as summer slowly bleeds into fall.
these things i have seen // long island
Tennis - Marathon
Husband and wife team sailed the world for 8 months and made cute 50’s surf pop in the thick of it.
August she may die. Summer go she must. (l)
call him a coward, a saint, or churlish. say what you will about the boy. that his limbs are all wrong, his prose is moribund, his fingers briny but on that day he ran, until his eyes burned and he tasted vomit, he ran.
“The scorching blade slashed at my eyelashes and stabbed at my stinging eyes. That’s when everything began to reel. The sea carried up a thick, fiery breath. It seemed to me as if the sky split open from one end to the other to rain down fire.” - Camus (l)
Whenever I see a large mass of humanity in one place I like to think that I am a bug that can fly into ears and jump from one of these stranger’s beautiful synapses to another greedily digesting their thoughts. I wonder, behind stalwart countenance of these beach goers what lurks in the murky darkness of their brain’s membrane.
Did they hurt someone they loved? Did they do it because they needed to know that someone cared enough about them to be damaged by their misgivings. Do they, when sinking their toes into the cool sand of high tide, think about the things they left undone: the lovers left clothed, the lies they lived and the greatness they never realized?
And finally, the tide returns and as the water licks their feet do they yearn to melt into it crying, “Yes: I am flawed and bruised. My soul is a wrecked, wretched shell, but incorrigible I am not.”
S O M N A M B U L A T E
Last night, the light in Central Park was like warm glass.
