This version feels incredibly sad to me—a subtle shift from the fuller, heavier beat found in the original. The synth-strings at the end feel like an apology. A goodbye.

Given that this album was released posthumously… I have to wonder.

(Source: Spotify)

therhumboogie:

By Adrián Villar Rojas, a most fascinating environmental sculpture, a to scale blue whale situated in Ushuaia, Ukraine. The subtle addition of the tree stumps to make it look like it is already being assimilated by nature, brilliant touch.

So eerie and beautiful…

Putting things into perspective

I like to have a plan. I like some element of control in my life—in my relationships, my job, my writing.

And I know I can be a catalyst, when I need to be. I can create a reaction.

But I can’t always control the outcome.

A few months ago, I ended my relationship with someone I had dated for eight years. (Eight years.) Actually—I ended it nearly a year ago, and spent the months afterward trying desperately to stand by my decision and cut him out of my life. Because that’s what they do in movies, right? Stop cold turkey? Sever the limb? And then, they drift apart. It’s a simple, scripted process. 1.Break up. 2.Cry or something. 3.Drift.

So I tried that, I followed every step, I tried to drift apart. But there’s this pesky thing called free will, and while I am free to ignore phone calls, he is just as free to place them. And after a while, I caved, I conceded to “being friends” (which doesn’t work, by the way), and we resumed talking. And he kept trying to maintain that emotional dependency, as I feared he would.

But tonight, as I sat in my room—completely bored, looking for someone to chat with online—I realized he wasn’t there. Actually, I realized I hadn’t heard from him in over a week, and the week before that, he’d only texted me once.

And it hit me. It finally started, the drifting. Just when I’d given up, somewhere in the world and without any conscious effort on my part, a switch flipped and his life resumed—without me.

I’m still a little overwhelmed by the thought.

This same week, I realized the boy I thought I wanted—an artist, passionate about everything, the complete opposite of my apathetic, business-oriented ex—simply didn’t care.

Okay. I hear you laughing. I know that sounds juvenile. But the moment when you realize a person you get along with so well hasn’t been asking about your day or inquiring about your hobbies, your passions, or, honestly, anything at all… the moment when you realize it’s not because he’s forgetful or busy or selfish, it’s because he doesn’t care enough to know you, well… it’s certainly a humbling experience.

Free will, you’re killing me.

And in the midst of all this I have been a catalyst—I have forced myself to meet new people, to attend random CouchSurfing meetups, to have drinks with coworkers I barely know. I’ve even started submitting my writing to local literary magazines (okay, maybe just one so far, but still). These are things I never would have done in the past. And whatever endings I may have faced in the last month, they don’t compare to the beginnings I’ve already set in motion. And the possibilities that are now open to me.

So no, I can’t control everything in my life.

But don’t worry; I won’t let that stop me.

And that concludes my 3am emotional ramble, which I will probably delete by morning. Goodnight!

bluprint:

Artificial Moon is a sculptural piece by Beijing-based artist Wang Yuyang constructed from hundreds of various compact fluorescent lightbulbs. At over 13 ft. wide (400cm) the piece is an imposing recreation of Earth’s moon, using strategically placed lights to mimic craters and other surface features. Its creation is also particularly poignant, as it was originally put on exhibit in Shanghai, a city that due to light pollution is often unable witness the actual moon moving through the night sky

As much as I am in love with urban spaces, and urban life… I don’t think I could survive in a city where light pollution obscures even the moon.

Things I do not appreciate:

  • My mean, middle-aged neighbor
  • My mean, middle-aged neighbor wearing a bikini while gardening
  • My mean, middle-aged neighbor blaring Bryan Adams ballads
  • Have I mentioned my neighbor?
  • Laundry.

Lunch break. Next time: picnic!

Lunch break. Next time: picnic!

nedhepburn:

Street artist arrested and detained for planting non-existent bombs in Brooklyn.
Big surprise! Someone living in Williamsburg doesn’t understand art.

nedhepburn:

Street artist arrested and detained for planting non-existent bombs in Brooklyn.

Big surprise! Someone living in Williamsburg doesn’t understand art.

stfuhypocrisy:

Women, especially young childless undecided women voters, are talking about jobs,  not abortion rights, right? What women really care about is not contraception, not access to family planning resources, not social issues like gay marriage, abstinence-only sex “ed” or Mitt Romney’s 50 year old bullying. Nope – it’s the economy. Women, “like everyone else,”– that would the norm – men, just want to be able to go to work, earn a fair wage and support their families. These “social” things are a “distraction” leading Americans to avert their gaze from what’s really important: the economy. Polls are clear:  jobs and the economy are their number one concerns.

READ THIS.

Like Ivory soap, 99% of the time, it doesn’t happen.

Source: I found my insane professor’s quotes—I mean, my class notes—from stats class in college.