W. W. Norton: Love Poem For College →
wwnorton: You hit on me. You hit on everyone. You pour gallons of lightning punch into a trash bag, promising that sobriety is just a 2 A.M. Waffle House away. You are always under construction. The earth shall be inherited by your trucks. Every semester brings new commandments Your blackboards are…
in which my nighttime teeth grinding makes a...
Being stressed out all of the time is really stressing me out. I know this is the commonplace complaint of my generation, but it’s not going to stop me from saying this: I want a job that means something. Let me back up a second. I already have this kind of job, but I went into it knowing it’d be three months and three months only. So come mid to late August, I’m done with my...
There is no combination worse than surly and despondent.– Sasha
‘I’m bored’ is a useless thing to say. I mean, you live in a great, big, vast...– Louis C.K. (via precipice)
It’s too hot to sleep, but it’s always good weather to read in bed.
scribnerbooks: “You’re an expatriate. You’ve lost touch with the soil. You get precious. Fake European standards have ruined you. You drink yourself to death. You become obsessed with sex. You spend all your time talking, not working. You are an expatriate, see? You hang around cafes.” “It sounds like a swell life,” I said. —Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises Happy Birthday, Ernest.