im the kid that lets you borrow a pencil and then writes it down in his ledger and lets the value of the pencil accrue monthly compounded interest until 10 years after you graduate from college and have a stable job at which time he forces you to file bankruptcy and liquidates all of your assets
isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other human beings?
Are you talking about prostitution, the movies, or airplane tickets?
"Look out at this sand. If you shield your eyes from the horizon, your sense of perception is completely destroyed. Is this sand ten feet away or miles away?" she asked me, still staring out into the dunes.
"I don’t know… I can’t tell."
"That’s right. For all you know, it could be infinite. With each step you take, each passing second of travel, you have no way to knowing how far you have gone, or how far you have to go."
I looked over to her. She was still staring at the sea of sand, mesmerized with the complexity of something so simple. I suppose I was too.
"Date a girl who reads books," she said, briefly taking her eyes off the sand to glance at me.
"What’s that?" I asked, not quite understanding her.
"Date a girl who reads books. For her, the world of books is as infinite as this sand."
She picked some up and let it sift through her fingers. I watched as the grains slid quietly off of her hand and back into their pasture.
"Hey, do we have any water left?" I motioned at the backpack, a bit parched from the summer heat.
"No we’re all out," she said calmly, "The sand is our water. Let us drink from it together."
"What the hell," I said.
people who can see ghosts must have really good death perception
This is a damn good cosplay
— the angels revealed themselves to her; said they were ten feet tall, radiant, and one of them was black; said they helped her with various household chores. One of them changed a light bulb for her, the porch light.
After working on this piece on and off for almost a year, I think it’s finally more or less done. It’s so difficult to decide when something is “finished”.
I’m intrigued by the idea of Night Vale angels looking like something one wouldn’t traditionally call an angel. Heads like those of ancient Egyptian gods and bodies like distorted modern sculptures. Tall, ominous and creepy, but happy to help an old lady with simple household chores.
This is what happens to a basketball court when the pipes burst
this is the greatest basketball challenge of all time
YES IT’S ON MY DASH AGAIN
OH MY GOD IT’S BACK
next time you’re over at your friends’ house ask them if you can “do the dishes.” they will be incredibly surprised and thankful but will soon wish they never let you near them as you proceed to break them all on your knees while yelling “do is an ambiguous verb”
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