evereybody come over we”re
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Friendly reminder this Moon Landing Day that this website exists, where you can drop yourself at any point in the mission where the crew are awake and they'll probably be bantering with Houston.
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— Jean-Paul Sartre, from “Nausea.”
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from THEORY OF MOTION (4): ANOTHER MIDDLE-CLASS BLACK KID TRIES TO NAME IT by cameron awkward-rich, published in transit
[Text ID: Please—what’s the word for being born of sorrow that isn’t yours? For having a family? For belonging nowhere? Not even your body. Especially not there. /End ID]
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— Jeremy Radin, from “So I Locked Myself Inside a Star for Twenty Years.”
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the budget for the barbie press tour could've been used to pay the workers at WB the amount they deserve btw
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MOVIES VS PAINTINGS, Part III.
Shutter Island, Martin Scorsese vs The Kiss, Gustav Klimt.
Midsommar, Ari Aster vs Head of a Bacchante, Annie Louisa Swynnerton.
Shirley: Visions of Reality, Gustav Deutsch vs New York Movie, Edward Hopper.
Us, Jordan Peele vs Not to Be Reproduced, René Magritte.
The Truman Show, Peter Weir vs Architecture Au Clair De Lune, René Magritte.
Gothic, Ken Russell vs The Nightmare, Henry Fuseli.
Mad Max: Fury Road, George Miller vs Los Elefantes, Salvador Dalí.
Frozen, Jennifer Lee & Chris Buck vs The Swing, Jean-Honoré Fragonard.
The Neon Demon, Nicolas Winding Refn vs Gard Blue, James Turrell.
The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Jim Sharman vs American Gothic, Grant Wood.
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A Reward
by Denise Levertov
Tired and hungry, late in the day, impelled
to leave the house and search for what
might lift me back to what I had fallen away from,
I stood by the shore waiting.
I had walked in the silent woods:
the trees withdrew into their secrets.
Dusk was smoothing breadths of silk
over the lake, watery amethyst fading to gray.
Ducks were clustered in sleeping companies
afloat on their element as I was not
on mine. I turned homeward, unsatisfied.
But after a few steps, I paused, impelled again
to linger, to look North before nightfall-the expanse
of calm, of calming water, last wafts
of rose in the few high clouds.
And was rewarded:
the heron, unseen for weeks, came flying
widewinged toward me, settled
just offshore on his post,
took up his vigil.
If you ask
why this cleared a fog from my spirit,
I have no answer.
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