Is there something in the condensation of letters that makes it seem possible to say what you feel and how you feel so clearly? Or is it that within that 140 character limit, you are suddenly misconstrued? What is twittering doing to our language—our gossip, our news, our lives—that makes it so possible to be heard and immediately thereafter judged?
[You will fall out of love. You will fall in love. You will fall out of love....– Fielden Nelson, from “Failure Map” (via the-final-sentence)
I bleed.– Billy Collins, from “On Turning Ten” (via the-final-sentence)
Every time that I have to ask my parents for money, it’s like a hole in my spirit.
Letting off some Internet steam.
To do this and next week: Finish thesis following Final Review with edits by 3 committee members and a new section because Google just had to update their goddamned website…by tomorrow. Print title page on fancy expensive paper to be signed by next week by all committee members. Find Zeina and ask about thesis binding. Write 14-page draft for Symposium. Write paper for Art’s...
Anthony Bourdain: Hard 8 →
anthonybourdain: Eight seasons of NO RESERVATIONS. Who would have guessed? I sure as Hell wouldn’t have. How long could we get away with it? Not very long was the prevailing wisdom. And yet here we are. Nearly 700,000 air miles later, about two thirds of the way through shooting—and it’s looking pretty…