'nice' RE: Carles/chillwave

Carles from hipster runoff has offered up an incredible defense of the 'chillwave' genre and artistic creation in general re: the New York Times arts beat.  He cast aside his normal ironic and sardonic tone and satire laden prose/his propensity to use abbreviations and 'bro'-talk for an intelligent and well-written response to a critical review of bands such as Toro y Moi, Washed Out, Neon Indian, Small Black, Memory Tapes, etc.

Needless to say, i 'dig'.

now i'm late for work

there is a mouse in my house

challenging my sanity

it appears out of the corner of my eye

but never directly head on

just a flash of shadowy black

for something like a mili-second

enough to make you think you saw it

but not enough to make you know for sure.

come out you little fucker

let's be friends

no need to be so scared of each other

i'll feed you vegetarian things if you decide to be sociable

'and they lived happily ever after'

that could be us, friend.

let that be us, friend.

i wonder if he goes into his hole

and writes things about me

i wonder if he wants to kill me

or if he writes about how he wants to

be friends too

i hope he wrote

'and they live happily ever after'

too

there is a mouse in my house

his appearances are always brief

i've grown fond of the little fucker

though my only description of him is

'black as night'

so maybe it's a rat

damn it

is this beautiful?

i took a sip of my tea

the light caught the surface in just the right angle and it revealed

a patina of oils floating on the surface

from my lips

i loved you so dearly

after making love

we laid naked, our bodies

exposed and

entwined;

your soft skin angelic and

smooth;

our flushed faces hot, smiling,

tired.

i put on that record, miles davis "bitches brew"to

sleep;

the relaxing ambience set by the faint glow of old christmas lights,

hanging;

bookcases acted as a divider from the rest of the room,

privacy;

the low vaulted wood paneling above us,

cozy;

my arm wrapped around your chest, a promise

to protect you.

i simultaneously showed my affection;

your tousled strawberry hair i lightly

kissed;

i breathed in

your neck,

we drifted into dreams

delicately,

exploring the universe

together.

it was cold

but our bodies in union,

kept warm.
it was one of many moments in our time that

i thought

'this moment is eternal'

in the morning

we wrote on each other's backs:

on your skin

a secret

my mouth

never told...

"words with friends"

Today i opened my iphone

app which is called "words

with friends"

which you play with 'friends' and it

is scrabble with a different name.

The board i played with her was

full of double meanings because

i was no longer trying to win -

the game at least. 

She played back.

'heal' 'love' 'chimes' 'yes' 'vow' 'care' 'love'

A message greeted me this morning to

underwhelming fanfare:

"You won!"

"A.P. xxxxx has resigned"

ya, 

"words with friends", 

I know.

that kid perpetuated negative stereotypes re 'hipster' or a fairly superficial fart of words displayed meaningfully here

kiss my ass mother fucker

you have a lot of potential

fuck you

i'm keeping your poop in my jar

or am i keeping my poop in your jar

what a dick hole

douche hole

hiney hole

tee hee

for jenna, circa christmas 2009:

best read by your computer's monotone.

new black cab session

Dry The River from Black Cab Sessions on Vimeo

i don't have permission to embed.

check it out here.

great harmonies.

this man can sing

this russian singer fills me with inspiration.

thank you aquarium drunkard