January62013
December292012
miss-prince:

literaryreference:

teal-deer:

caterinasforzas:


what to wear when…a hard-boiled noir detective. ice cubes creak and shift as she pours liquor jiggerlessly (three fingers’ worth of scotch) with a practiced hand, knuckles bruised but scrubbed of blood, fingerpads sticky with newspaper ink, thumb rubbed raw from years of midnight lighter flicks. the sharp line of her jaw is echoed in the straightness of a cigarette dangling unattended, its moist tip clinging to her upper lip. the hiss-crinkle of its burn alerts her; she taps her ash on a glass tray of crushed stubs and waits for the dame to speak first. the half-lidded blinds cast stripes of light and shade across their faces, allowing them to hide with height adjustments. knowing this, she curves over the desk, her spine crooked as a south side cop, until her eyes slide into the shadows, too dark for her client to see.







post 385 of an infinity-part series









xen
hey xen 

Holy shit how did I miss this, it is everything that I could possibly want in a Tumblr post. Detectives! Ladies in suits! Lady detectives in suits! Yes please. (Also, Janelle Monae!)
… Okay I know how I missed it, I haven’t been around much because of the holidays and have just been looking at the first couple pages of my dash and going OH WELL GOOD ENOUGH, but Teal, I am so glad that you pointed this out to me, because my day is improved 100% by the existence of this post. IT’S LIKE IT WAS MADE FOR ME

There is a lot here to appreciate.
Gorgeous, gosh.

miss-prince:

literaryreference:

teal-deer:

caterinasforzas:

what to wear when…a hard-boiled noir detective. ice cubes creak and shift as she pours liquor jiggerlessly (three fingers’ worth of scotch) with a practiced hand, knuckles bruised but scrubbed of blood, fingerpads sticky with newspaper ink, thumb rubbed raw from years of midnight lighter flicks. the sharp line of her jaw is echoed in the straightness of a cigarette dangling unattended, its moist tip clinging to her upper lip. the hiss-crinkle of its burn alerts her; she taps her ash on a glass tray of crushed stubs and waits for the dame to speak first. the half-lidded blinds cast stripes of light and shade across their faces, allowing them to hide with height adjustments. knowing this, she curves over the desk, her spine crooked as a south side cop, until her eyes slide into the shadows, too dark for her client to see.

post 385 of an infinity-part series

xen

hey xen 

Holy shit how did I miss this, it is everything that I could possibly want in a Tumblr post. Detectives! Ladies in suits! Lady detectives in suits! Yes please. (Also, Janelle Monae!)

… Okay I know how I missed it, I haven’t been around much because of the holidays and have just been looking at the first couple pages of my dash and going OH WELL GOOD ENOUGH, but Teal, I am so glad that you pointed this out to me, because my day is improved 100% by the existence of this post. IT’S LIKE IT WAS MADE FOR ME

There is a lot here to appreciate.

Gorgeous, gosh.

December62012

captainsbooty:

captainsbooty:

captainsbooty:

what if we’re all characters in a book

WHAT IF WHEN YOU FORGET WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY IT’S THE AUTHOR BACKSPACING

guys why isn’t everyone reblogging this it’s a scientific breakthrough

(Source: okhazel, via amaresilentio)

October252012

likeafieldmouse:

The Epitaphs of Famous Authors

1. F. Scott Fitzgerald:

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

2. John Keats: 

“Here Lies One Whose Name was Writ in Water”

3. Sylvia Plath: 

“Even amidst fierce flames the golden lotus can be planted.”

4. Robert Frost: 

“I had a lovers’ quarrel with the world.”

5. Dorothy Parker: 

“Excuse my dust.”

(Source: likeafieldmouse, via amaresilentio)

October82012

Solo(darity?)

I’m writing a portion of my novel right now which I call ‘the individual captaincy’ and where the main group of characters, due to a lack of people with experience commanding ground forces, have to split up and take control of separate armies. It’s a departure from the usual theme of teamwork, and quite compelling. As soon as I began thinking about this, too, several songs I’d been listening to pretty constantly fell into the motif. Two songs, for example, are both very Siari as a solo commander: Figure 8 by Ellie Goulding and the slightly more predictable Titanium, by David Guetta (and sung by Sia…)

Lots of fun this weekend: three 21st birthdays, including my own; visiting friends; Honk!; Also a lot of new to get used to: new phone; inside-ear headphones; the lack of frivolity on the horizon. (Curious that it fades right after I turn 21, though.) I am doing something frivolous now though: I am going all the way to Kendall Square to visit an interesting sounding coffee shop which my new friend Mia recommended last night. I have a lot of reading to do, though, and the shop sounded like a nice place to do this.

September262012

Random ramblings

I can never write when I’m stressed, even the continuous low-level stress of school. I realize this last night when I choose to write during the 15 minute break I’ve granted myself between assignments and come up with two lines, even though I have a  narrative of this part in my head that’s been growing for days.

Used coffee grounds look depressingly like chocolate lava cake, and smell about as good.

I think I should save reading Infinite Jest for a long vacation.

September162012
September112012
August32012

kanimazing:

I used to have all the full moons set in my phone, but I don’t keep track anymore. Kinda miss knowing tbh.

I do however love the nights where all the houselights are off and I go into the kitchen late to get a glass of water and I can just tell it’s a full moon because of how the night world is lit up and glowing from moonlight and no cloud cover.

My favorite paragraph from the meditation I wrote senior year:

There was a night over the summer, one of many, when I couldn’t fall asleep. It was 2:30 AM, and I’d exhausted all the activities that I usually partake in this situation. None of my insomniac friends were online anymore. I had no ideas for writing a story or poem, and there was nothing interesting on Adult Swim. I was walking back upstairs after fixing a nightcap. My mother swears by hot milk as a sleep aid, and I like to add a little honey for taste. As I walked toward the stairs, I noticed that it was unusually bright in the foyer, and that the light was coming from outside. Glancing outside, I saw no car back from a late-night party or any luminous streetlights. But I did see the moon. It was much larger than usual and illuminating everything with a soft grey light, the color of my favorite T-shirt. I could see well across the road into the trees, and even the houses further up the road. All that was missing was a werewolf prowling around the yard. In 18 years, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen; this tableau of nature bathed in an attenuated and elegant night. My tiredness was forgotten. I wanted to go out and play, to dance in the moonlight and take pictures and experience this thing I’d never seen before that was somehow intoxicating. Werewolves be damned.

(Source: thracekara)

5PM

pixarmovies:

renlybaratheon:

planetofjunkmattdemers:

Some of Pixar’s Rules of Storytelling, only in LEGO.

I’m a visual person; I like when things are acted out for me.

Follow me on Twitter/Tumblr/Facebook for more nerdy things!

Excellent stuff.  Cute presentation too.

Yup, rules from Pixar’s (former) story artist, Emma Coats!

(via seenecdoche)

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