YO GUYS DO THIS
Banango Lit is pleased to announce we are starting an online journal. Submissions are now open. It will be called Banango Street. Our first issue includes contributions from people we all know and love, including Russ Woods, DJ Berndt, and Neon Glittery. Theron Jacobs will be providing…
i can’t be more aggressive than that, i don’t think
velveta say if u see man say friendzone serious, cut off the tip of his penis w/ tiny guillotine
As defined by urban dictionary, the friendzone is…
“When you are expected to support a girl you really like while she searches for…
some people started following on tumblr, maybe ‘you people’ if you are reading this right now. it was sort of an accident and i really didn’t intend it, i just wanted to write on the internet because it’s easier than typing into a blank word document. you know the feeling.
my boyfriend left for england yesterday and will not be back until june. this is one of the worst nights of my life, and even if it is a white person problem it hurts just a few degrees more than i know how to handle. i’ve been to seven funerals but i wasn’t all that sad at most of them. i’ve been recording songs with all of my ex boyfriends and that has been sort of fun and less awkward than i thought it would be. i have a lot more time to fill than i realized i would and so here i am, one am, and i can’t end this post with ‘goodnight’ because it is back to mindless interneting for me, staring at facebook, expressionless, exhausted.
sans serif
he writes on her stomach with a blue marker
GOD I WANT TO EAT YOU
and she is flattered by the sexual compliment
but when she next wakes he is devouring ravenously
drinking desperately.
she sighs and rolls over with the sheets pulled over her face
disappointment and he frowns noticing her,
and touches her shoulder in simple acknowledgement.
the dishes clatter as he sets them on the nightstand
and moves to the window to turn on the fan facing outward,
a chilling draft rushing through the barely-open door.
under the sheet she hears the strike of a lighter and
the faint smell of smoke being pulled away by
the ghost mechanical wind he’s created.
if she closes her eyes almost all the way the lights
halfway veiled through the sheet
flicker like small flames because of the water in her eyes
as she quietly realizes she has no idea what time of day it is at all.
she talks to herself like a child,
you’re alright, it’s okay, you’re okay
as he pulls back the blankets and helps her out of bed.
the writing continues down onto her thighs in unreadable scrawl
and then back up over her hips around her pelvis and
upside down on her back
she glimpses in the mirror and she asks
him to read it to her.
the words are new to him as well because
he was so drunk & confused when he wrote them
and did not remember at all.
GOD I WANT TO KISS YOU UP AND DOWN YOUR LEGS HOLY HOLY HOLY IN THIS AMERICAN NIGHT AS WE LAY TOGETHER LIKE SPARROWS OR LIKE STARS
screencaps from my very favorite music video — the postal service’s district sleeps alone.
a girl gets home from a party, lies in bed, is accompanied by several shadow/projected lovers. she dreams she’s still at a party, in love. people outside bustle and shout, the sun comes and goes. she wakes up alone—the alarm clock, if you can’t read it, says “give up”
David Foster Wallace’s posthumous novel Pale King arrived on my doorstep, two weeks before its release date, this afternoon. I have yet to start and am full of terror.
“—in the morning I wake up wondering where I am. My mouth tastes like the death of a child.”
Joshua Allen wrote that a while ago. I woke up this morning and my first thought was “fuck” and my second thought was that.
Sometimes advertising just works. Sometimes the perfect message hits the ideal audience and it all clicks. The marketing key fits right into my brain’s keyhole with a call-to-action that is literally irresistible.
“Watch now,” the banner ad said. “Duran Duran’s UNSTAGED concert directed by David Lynch.”
Saw this banner, had similar thoughts. Watched Mulholland Drive instead and felt a lot better about it.
