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me in real life for real · my art · no one really cares and i don't really care
excerpt from something i’ve been writing
Jack was in bed. It was 3’oclock. P.M. He was asleep. He dreamed that he was wandering in a cornfield all by himself. There was a party going on at the nearby farm, and he could hear all of his friends talking and laughing. 90s rap was playing, and a lot of girls started to scream the lyrics, throwing their hands in the air and laughing like they were drunk. Some people were pretending not to be wasted, but most people were pretending to be more wasted than they were. The group that stood closest to him formed a circle, everyone with a cigarette in one hand. There was a funny guy who stuck out from the rest of the group because he was taller, but also probably because he was the funny guy with the most confidence. In the dream Jack was thinking that he would really like to be like that guy, that he should run up to the rest of the group and break into the conversation and offer everyone free cigarettes and a sip of the whiskey in his flask that he had in his back pocket and once they were all drunk and full of nicotine he would tell them a story and they would think he would be the best fucking person they had ever met and he would go home and sleep happily and know that he was being a good 19 year old guy by going to parties and being the life of them.
it’s really hard to be extraordinary
“I want to be alone and I want people to notice me - both at the same time”
Thom Yorke (via kodamaa)(Source: black-wolves, via bain-bridge)
