This time of year I fall in love with this city so hard, again and again and again.
“The wide, roiling prairie announced itself in liquid glimpses, apocalyptic and familiar. We had been sleeping in tents outside, and now we all ran for cover. Blue discs of hail blew into our wagons. The soaked canvas shuddered; and this became indistinguishable from the tremors within our own divided bodies, the hollow vibrato in our spines and human skulls and bellies, during the thunder.
‘Mother,’ I said, to say something.
”
GPOY
Baby face.
(Source: yurionpax)
This awesome cake was at a Morrissey birthday party/DJ night last night at Zanzabar, in Louisville, KY. Photo provided by my friend Eric Condon, taken by Sarah Bonifer.
That being said, a very unhappy birthday to Steven Patrick Morrissey who is 54 today.
Two years later, I cannot imagine ever being more sad than I was the day that I graduated from college, though at the time i knew that I was overreacting. I felt as though I were officially out of the oven, under-risen, over-baked, and with serious imbalances in my ingredients— like the cake my…
“And from th’ Antarctic Pole eastward behold
As much more land, which never was descried,
Wherein are rocks of pearl that shine as bright
As all the lamps that beautify the sky;
And shall I die, and this unconquerèd?”
This time of year I fall in love with this city so hard, again and again and again.