(Source: westbor0baptistchurch, via badideasophia)

I honestly think this recent experience would be great as the first ten minutes of a screenplay:

boy is drunk. beer bottles strewn on dingy carpet of bedroom. dim lighting. jefferson airplane song (“somebody to love”) playing on tinny macbook speakers (song is loud enough to discern but not loud enough to drown out diegetic sound). boy feels around on bed. bright glow of cellphone reflected on glasses (glasses have anti-glare coating on them so reflection is green). boy opens up grindr and starts talking to some blond guy visiting. invites him over. boy downs shot of terrible whisky. cleans clothes up off floor and throws them all into the closet and shuts the closet door. opens front door for blond guy. forced smile. snippets of perfunctory small talk, something about weather and college sports. jump cut to weird sex, not bad, just weird. a flying limb knocks over a beer bottle and it clinks loudly. blond guy makes weird noises. contorted grimace. jump cut to early morning. hangover. outside the window is composed an overture of diesel engines and bird chirps. fan whirs loudly. boy rouses blond guy still snoring and throws him his clothes and kicks him out. passes hapless roommate exiting the shower wrapped in towel. boy frantically brushing teeth and jamming one leg in dress pants. jump cut to boy putting graduation robe on over his head, adjusting cords around neck (honors student!), tying dress shoes. muted bluish colors other than bright yellow daffodils outside as boy walks down sidewalk carrying graduation cap and then knocks on friend’s door. narrow staircase with orange carpet. boy downs another shot of whisky in smoky, hazy room plastered in fading obama posters. white wood paneling. friends stoned laughing. it’s 7:30 am. jump cut to boy lighting cigarette in crowd of thousands of people all in graduation garb in front of giant stadium. discordant and overlapping conversation from excited young adults all around. atavistic cheering of distant bros catches the wind and passes by. group of eight white girls posing endlessly for photoset of iphone pictures. jump cut to boy and friends waiting inside the stadium in large concrete room covered in advertisements. conversation remains the same but amplified and echoing. boy stands silent. jump cut to crowded stadium bleachers, boy surrounded by college graduates. moderately important public figure is orating platitudes about vague futures in a manner that attempts to relate to millennials but sound system of stadium is such that words cannot be made out. obligatory clapping. marching band plays slightly flat, low roar bubbles up from crowd. jump cut to boy jostling through uncontrolled and frenetic crowd of college students and incredibly proud older family members. shoving of limbs. boy poses for pictures looking into the sun with forced smile, almost a grimace, standing for several minutes among small groups performing the same ritual. boy’s robe is worn lopsided such that the parents upon uploading pictures to their computer will make remarks that they should have fixed it. jump cut to much later in the day, late afternoon sunlight, in a sun-dappled and well-landscaped backyard. clinking of plates and silverware, hostess serving heapings of food onto plates of guests with large spoon. large display of hors d’oeuvres on festive plastic tablecloth purchased from national discount retailer. indeterminate but happy-sounding utterances from slightly drunk and raucous older relatives of friend. champagne bottle pops, scattered applause. jump cut to late dusk. well-positioned and slightly out-of-focus strings of lights. boy and friends drunkenly dancing on patio to early 2000s pop hit. boy is noticeably less animated than friends and his facial expression is one of drowsy satisfaction. boy takes sip from glass of champagne. jump cut to SUV slowing down. now it’s nighttime. sound of tires braking on gravelly asphalt. boy in back seat. boy gets out of car to hug parents, his father first briefly, then his mother, lingering. boy smiles faintly as he watches his mother say something that conveys pride and happiness. sound of keys jingling. boy watches car drive away up the street. jump cut to boy throwing keys on kitchen table. they make a loud noise as they impact the glass surface. boy throws himself onto bed. we are in the same place we were at the beginning of this sequence. boy stares at wall opposite, traces grooves in white wood veneer with mental fingers. feels around on the bed but stops. tear suddenly streaks down boy’s face but his facial expression does not particularly change. he is too tired to be scared but his face betrays deep-seated apprehension. 

Cut to black, or something. Where from here?

(Source: lisafrankfurtschool)

HIGHEST HONORS YALL
also the director of the political science honors program made posters for everyone’s theses and framed them and gave them to us
also I’m cool

HIGHEST HONORS YALL

also the director of the political science honors program made posters for everyone’s theses and framed them and gave them to us

also I’m cool

Your va-jay-jay called! It wants to talk about anarcho-syndicalism.

Your va-jay-jay called! It wants to talk about anarcho-syndicalism.

(Source: cosmarxpolitan)

real talk

real talk

“Ездят такси, 
Но нам нечем платить, 
И нам незачем ехать, 
Мы гуляем одни.

Видели ночь, 
Гуляли всю ночь до утра.”

(Source: Spotify)