So no one’s even sure exactly where they are because there’s no border or landmarks or anything. And the town, it’s not even a town, really, it’s just like this camp where these people have gathered to hide, right? All these deserters and guys that got cut off from their armies, all these people that were hiding in the woods and trying to stay alive, this is where they all came.There’s Thieves, Gray Mages, Unbidden Warriors, Dark Avians, Riverwynders, Sappers— there’s like fifteen kinds of characters, okay? So basically you have all these characters who don’t know each other and they don’t know why they’re here and nobody has any alliances, okay? Whatever alliances you had before are gone. You can’t even say who you are, because you don’t know, maybe the person you’re talking to, maybe they were like your mortal enemy in the wars. So it’s just completely like everybody for themselves. So all these people, they all start having these dreams, okay? You know what a vision quest is? Like for Navahos and stuff? Like a special dream. Except this is like a whole bunch of people having the same dream. They’re all having this dream that they should go to this one place. They don’t know why or anything, they just have this feeling that they have to go there. That they’ve been summoned. That’s the chapter. That’s what it’s called. “Summons to Conquest.” Seriously, that’s the title. They don’t know they’re all having the same dream, that’s what’s so cool, they all think it’s just them, that maybe they’re like going crazy or something so they don’t want to admit it. But they’re not crazy, it’s real. It’s really happening. Something larger than themselves, they’re just not ready to hear it. o

wolf in ze oven & RED red wine, hi!, u could consider the mirror as a metaphor to ur own self but wheres the in in in i n inin in-in m,m,m,m,m,m,m„m,m,my lips are marked with freckles all over, buffalo buffalo buffalo dooffallo, so i push it all up to ya slot till that ____ hit the jackpot and carpet burns on my knees

after that, what the wolf does is he lies down next to you and begins to talk about switcharoo wackadoodle wackatoon wackazeezee wackadoofgooff rooby dooby doo roody-poo. and then pauses and says in alabama accent : is not my friend. look left - feel rejected, look right - see no love : time will wait and earn/heart/hurt lovingly against us while nobody wanders until it’s now

next thing u know it’s 5pm (yall wake up) go to the mall in a shirt normally dedicated to sleep time, the warm sunrays feel good as we don’t go through the central walkway inside the mall but cross the car park outside, the mood is orangish~ yellowwwarm, “which sand is the best ?” - “i’ll think about it next time it slips between my toes” ; there’s that lil 10 y o dude on a bike that appears from fuck knows where between all the cars and he starts riding in spirals around u as u walk —fast forward— orange juice is SO. GOD.DAMN. important. orange juice is the most important thing in my life, it should be neverending g2b everlasting, i drink a full mug every 1hr or so when i’m able to (my cum should probly taste rather acidic), carb of my life how have i managed to forget about it??!

-fast forward- it’s 3 or 4am, car lights & street lights are spinning thin threads to form a rope — we walk around paris-9 at night from a party (“merci ! c’était malade!!”), come accross people with gay accents & we look at each other and go like “ppffrrtttaahaha” in a steve-o accent

Now, I’m gonna set that backpack on fire. What do you want to take out of it? Photos? Photos are for people who can’t remember. Drink some ginkgo and let the photos burn. In fact, let everything burn and imagine waking up tomorrow with nothing. It’s kind of exhilarating, isn’t it? x

Imagine for a second that you’re carrying a backpack. I want you to pack it with all the stuff that you have in your life… you start with the little things. The shelves, the drawers, the knickknacks, then you start adding larger stuff. Clothes, tabletop appliances, lamps, your TV… the backpack should be getting pretty heavy now. You go bigger. Your couch, your car, your home… I want you to stuff it all into that backpack. Now I want you to fill it with people. Start with casual acquaintances, friends of friends, folks around the office… and then you move into the people you trust with your most intimate secrets. Your brothers, your sisters, your children, your parents and finally your husband, your wife, your boyfriend, your girlfriend. You get them into that backpack, feel the weight of that bag. x

the universe is not being pushed from behind; it’s being pulled from the future =

1. lay on ur back
2. sneeze
3. let it rain back on ur face

4:30am - rise and shine, baby boy! it’s monday isn’t it

big bad wolf came over to my ranch
took all my land left me with a branch

i predict a noticeable increase in the usage of the word “tho” (in its overly obnoxious form) within internet communities over the summer of this year

oh man the guy that plays the napster guy in that facebook motion picture is justin timberlake? why do i have to realize this in a dream?

wireless headphones
keep listening to david letterman when u go to pee

wake up at 4 in the afternoon and ur ex is in the kitchen using the phone of the house cause all of hers are broken and your mom let her in

so i lay There and u lay Here (cause at that moment you’re even closer to my body than i, myself, am) and my mind starts to break out as my cycle of wakefulness is ending and FUCK where is my watch and FUCK do i even need it and fuck fuck fuck fuck my mind my mind and molecules of chlorine.
so i stand up up up and WAIT where is the pool i’m sat in the grass by your left boob and i take intermittent glances at the mole that’s on it and do you feel the sunrays bombing the back of your neck ?
so i start to walk and i hear H laughing, his girlfriend too, B jumps in the water, S is saying something like “hey T i think i really feel what’s going on with you” in a stoner monotone but shut your mouth, girl, you’re just a living metaphor for L to me, you don’t know nothin at all and soon ima be so gone gone you ain’t never gonna see me go go gone gone you ain’t shit to me

so —game over— and back to square number one i lay in the grass on my right side and you lay in it too on your left side we’re facing each other and there’s just darkness around us, the moon, the chlorine scent, the shouts and the bright spotlights glow from the open air pool behind us. “so ?” “nothing” i answer and you roll over to your right in a disappointed way and go like “hey T i think i really feel what’s going on with you” you reach to fix your hair, laying on your back, and i watch your ribs pushing into your skin from underneath and who knows where that’s gonna lead us

NO MORE CITY. We were bored in the city. I remember a time when I believed that you could just get lost inside your head, inside your body, inside the city, drifting high on drugs, moving in and out of consciousness. When I thought I could still save something of that dying hull, find a space for myself and my loved ones somewhere inside the cracks of capital. Working the day and partying at night, my body always a tool, a cog in the machine. Spacing out in front of a computer screen, answering the phone, never making anything that was truly mine. Caught in the dance of the machine. Here is some news : you CAN stop the groove. We have said : “No more.” This world is a nightmare from which we have decided to awake. I dream with my eyes open, I close my eyes in order to see. via

walk in guitar shop and ask about one of the most expensive and probably finest, most treasured instrument in the whole industry, knowing that they have it. act like you have a 6k+€ budget because you’re taking part in a recording studio building project somewhere abroad, you’re looking to furnish it with the high-endest equipement and this is the ‘guitar budget’. it works because you naturally have a slight eastern european accent. pretend that next week you’ll be carrying on your imaginary quest in germany, that country where instruments are renownedly cheaper than elsewhere and it puts pressure on the sales dudes. end up meticulously “test-driving” said guitar for 30 minutes in every possible set-up.

walk out with a million promises, but something like a guitargasm droning in your ears, heart and pants, the scent of fresh nickel on your fingers and no guilt at all because it’s like trying a ferrari for free