Charcoal no. 97
Lee Woodman 2012
“Shhh” she said. “I’m sleeping.” Just like that. From a hundred miles an hour to asleep in a nanosecond. I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.
Maison Rabih Kayrouz Haute Couture Fall 2011
Time drives me crazy. The way it continues to pass me while I stand still and watch. While I sleep the day away. Is there a way to stay awake at all times without needing rest. I think it’s a mind thing. Everything is. Sickness is. My whole life is. Is this all one big dream that someone else is dreaming? Are we all living through someone else’s dreams in their heads in another world, another existence? What brought us here? Do I have a purpose? Does everyone have a purpose?
untitled by Thiago Vidotto on Flickr.
