There’s not just a simple pressure to be beautiful — there’s pressure to be naturally beautiful. We’re supposed to just have it. And if we don’t have it, we’re supposed to get it without looking like we bought it.
I think about this too, how nearly every valuable thing I’ve hit upon in life has been the result of some kind of lucky or horrible accident.
The artist is lonely. He is lonely because he doesn’t have any friends. He has people who occasionally act like friends, people who laugh raucously and spill wine on the floor, but they all have defective ears.
All of these bands are 1) female-fronted, and 2) certain to blow your wig back.
I want something that makes me care about more things, or something that makes me care about things more, either one.
You can visit each other, you can Skype, you can do small things that make you feel connected to each other’s lives, but even those can sometimes seem like paltry offerings thrown into the void when you consider the vastness.
Listen to music that gets you, songs that seem to have been written specifically for you. Read books that have the capacity to do more for your well-being than multivitamins or therapy.
Self-handicap to the highest degree. Think about all the possible roadblocks before you even start a project. Think about how you don’t have enough money or time or motivation or coffee or talent, and now that you think about it, what makes you think what you have to offer is so great anyway?
Our bodies tell stories we don’t need to wait for a lover to discover.
What is the ultimate risk you’re willing to take?