You know that shape/color thing that exists in your mind that’s like a swirling amalgamation of objects you stared at a lot as a child but can’t remember exactly, that drifts into your minds eye when you’re falling asleep or eating someone out, and it fascinates and frustrates you because you can’t pin it down and see it clearly. Well mines like beige glazed pottery with a shifting flame shaped pattern of dark brown, orange and periwinkle what’s yours!!!
[ID; a heart-shaped pendant made of clay with the words “Heaven can wait” written on one side & “your heart can’t” on the verse. The letters are hand painted in cobalt blue. End ID]
my friend was testing perfumes out at the store and she sniffed a bottle and anounced “ngl this bitch kind of sucks” The girl at the counter suddenly looked really sad, and my friend was like “I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking about you.” And the girl looked up and said “No don’t worry, I didn’t think that, but I just crushed a ladybug with my shoe” We both took a peak over the counter. she’d stepped on a red m&m
we need to fully bring back disco. no pastiche: no discowave or ironic disco. no being ironic about the clothes. just wear what you would’ve worn in the 70s. no white washing the historical black and lgbt aspects. pure expression of dance and music and love and loss and sexuality. dead serious about all of this and frowning as i write it at the prospect that this won’t be what happens when the covid curve is flat. we need disco back again with zero irony or pretense. NOW.
