|Titanium (feat. Sia)|
|Nothing But the Beat|
Remember how everyone’s favorite part of Heath Ledger’s performance in Brokeback Mountain was his almost painful physical repression, his reluctance to express any emotion that wasn’t punching or SHUTTING DOWN? His voice was closed in on itself in a raspy burr — he fell to the ground rather than shed tears — his face was hooded and dark and full of twitching cheek muscles. Kristen Stewart is Heath Ledger, I assure you. She has the same handsome face, the same winsome, masculine smile, the same reluctance to make direct eye contact.
For years, everyone in the world has misunderstood Kristen Stewart’s compressed emotional range. They thought it meant she was a limited actress; it means nothing of the kind. She is John Wayne being forced to play the Maureen O’Hara character. Give her a rail to lean against during a sunset, a military jacket, a toothpick to chew on, and something to squint her eyes against lazily in the distance, and her guardedness will be transformed from unsuccessful femininity to The Great American Male.
Kristen Stewart is a goddamn cowboy.
I love her soooo much
When people were shorter and lived by the water, Ákos Major
Khaleesi & Jon Snow
Under a veritable shower of 90s movies (The Goonies, Only You, Jumanji, It Takes Two, I think I’m trying to conjure up places I miss, sun-bleached rock, dramatic landscapes, songs sung in other languages, twins with a penchant for matchmaking), learning “Sitz im Leben” and that mint dark chocolate M&Ms are so good holy shit, I remember a few years ago that my favorite word was “sublime,” and I think it’s because it reminds me of Uffizi and Botticelli and those dusty corners, illuminated, dripping with context, and rainy days in Seoul, young men with hip haircuts and neon yellow backpacks and pants that make you go, are they slacks? are they pajamas? but who cares because I mean, paired with a white t-shirt stretched across broad shoulders.
I’ve done a lot of reading today, on power and its endless, ever expanding cycles, and it’s a low place, it’s a low, low place. Thankfully there are more chapters; it doesn’t end here! I was trying to recall a word while looking up another, and it turned out that word was “armistice,” which, “Armistice Day” was the title of a Good Omens fic I read years ago, which began with something like, “And there was war in heaven” — very striking, spine shuddering, etc., ecclesiastical themes a plenty. The point of this is just to say, I’ve always liked that word, armistice, but it’s a word that wouldn’t exist without terrible actions and events, and then it’s like, well of course.
Hạ Long in Double Exposures.
08.28.14 @ 19:57♥1
Trying out the new camera; pictures of campus soon :)