We're Only In It for the Money

My name is Eric Kossina. I am an aspiring I Don't Know What.
fixyourwritinghabits:

benedictsghost:

prozacmorning:

awomanontheverge:


life-is-fiction:


theinternetghostshavetakenover:




golgothasghirahim:


basstrip:


whoa


what omg


the english language, everyone


This hit me like a brick


And people wonder why authors use italics and bold and shit so reader’s understand what’s going the fuck on.


And of course I just read this in my head 7 times, stressing each word differently. 


^ same

I love thisss

(This is why context and description are important!)

fixyourwritinghabits:

benedictsghost:

prozacmorning:

awomanontheverge:

life-is-fiction:

theinternetghostshavetakenover:

golgothasghirahim:

basstrip:

whoa

what omg

the english language, everyone

This hit me like a brick

And people wonder why authors use italics and bold and shit so reader’s understand what’s going the fuck on.

And of course I just read this in my head 7 times, stressing each word differently. 

^ same

I love thisss

(This is why context and description are important!)

(Source: mostlikelyloveyou, via everypersondancesoon)

It’s remarkable how outsiders have treated [twerk]—seeing a four-year-old twerking is not an uncommon thing in New Orleans. These kids grow up in a community where there’s no innuendo; it’s acrobatics, it’s expression, it’s part of music culture. People see a female ass move and think it’s only good for one thing: provoking or providing sex. The controversy speaks to the level of sexual maturity in pop; that they don’t see the world, or movement, as a complex tapestry.

—Bounce queen Big Freedia's long-time DJ Rusty Lazer on the rise of twerking in Puja Patel's "Bouncing Back", a piece about bounce culture and the first all-female brass band to win New Orleans’ Street Kings competition. (via pitchfork)

I have never seen an expression as full of wonder as Lou’s as he died. His hands were doing the water-flowing 21-form of tai chi. His eyes were wide open. I was holding in my arms the person I loved the most in the world, and talking to him as he died. His heart stopped. He wasn’t afraid. I had gotten to walk with him to the end of the world. Life—so beautiful, painful and dazzling—does not get better than that. And death? I believe that the purpose of death is the release of love.

—Laurie Anderson on Lou Reed in Rolling Stone. (via pitchfork)