Maybe It's Time

I hear it’s worse when you’re alone.

Think of restless nights curled up under plum-colored sheets, incessantly aware of the world outside the window to your backside. The soft wistfulness of sleeping souls and the stillness of the streets below.
You can’t help but think of the way he looked on the silvered city street that August midnight.
You wonder where he is now.
You look at the time and know he’s awake.
You wonder if he’s thinking of you.
You imagine him beside you and feel the warmth of his skin. Suddenly you’re hit with the memory of how he held you when you said goodbye. The emptiness you’ve felt since you pulled apart that day feels more expansive somehow.
You squeeze your eyes shut and desperately count backwards from ninety nine.
You wonder how many other broken hearts are out there doing the same thing.


2200 = 1 606 938 044 258 990 275 541 962 092 341 162 602 522 202 993 782 792 835 301 376 — one novemdecillion, six hundred six octodecillion, nine hundred thirty-eight septendecillion, forty-four sexdecillion, two hundred fifty-eight quindecillion, nine hundred ninety quattuordecillion, two hundred seventy-five tredecillion, five hundred forty-one duodecillion, nine hundred sixty-two undecillion, ninety-two decillion, three hundred forty-one nonillion, one hundred sixty-two octillion, six hundred two septillion, five hundred twenty-two sextillion, two hundred two quintillion, nine hundred ninety-three quadrillion, seven hundred eighty-two trillion, seven hundred ninety-two billion, eight hundred thirty-five million, three hundred one thousand, three hundred seventy-six (61 digits, 688 characters)

I just love, as well as the sentiment, that someone calls themselves the 1%, yet understanding the concept of the percentage; unlike some whiny middle class kid claiming that because he is frugal, he’s the 1%. Yeah, no you’re not unless your frugality has saved you millions and millions - as I understand it the percentage statistics refer to the 1% of America that holds ridiculously high percentage of the wealth, like maybe 99%? I might be wrong, but that’s what I’d thought the percentage to mean. 

Occupy Wall Street: SweetVendetta21 Inspires Me To Do This:

I am the 99%:

My boyfriend applied for Social Security because with his lung disease he is physically unable to work full time and do school. If he did, which he has before, he would be in the hospital almost immediately. They declined him. He is now going back with a lawyer. 

I have lived with my mother almost getting everything taken away and file for bankruptcy. But just barely applying for food stamps, thank god for donations and food kitchens. I grew up with a mother trying to finish her education while working two jobs, and that in the end led her to bankruptcy and no job prospects. 

I currently go to college, terrified of moving out on my own because once I’m out, I’m completely alone and have no financial support whatsoever. I am currently on financial aid probation because I failed one class and still have 3.0 GPA, where as other children with better off parents can fuck up with no financial boundaries, no stress, and no limitations. If I don’t get all A’s from now on, I do not have the opportunity to finish school. Because I am poor, I don’t have the same opportunities as others, yet I am equal. I am free. 

I am the 99%. 

(Fuck you Wall Street, and fuck you rich fucks with the tax cuts.)

Hi guys! so basically for my last few years at school im doing a project called ninety nine. Ninety nine is a project that strives to understand and capture on film the problem of poverty and how it affects the world. Right now we are also raising money for charity groups in Hong Kong and the Philippines. The ninety nine shirts will go on sale online soon and they look really cool and are great christmas presents!

Like ninety nine on facebook and follow our instagram!

2011-11-18. In light of recent events.

I took the following pictures on October 21st and 25th at Zucotti Park in downtown NYC. Behind-the-scenes — sort to speak — taken with my Yashica T4 while I was shooting a personal project there, which I will unveil early next week.

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Like virtually every photographer in the NYC area, I decided to visit the park and check it out. Unlike today, it was relatively calm then. The atmosphere was welcoming. The protests peaceful. The park had also become a media circus, and a tourist attraction. Businessmen stopped by on their lunch breaks. German and Japanese tourists took pictures as if this was one more stop in their Manhattan itinerary, right after walking across the Brooklyn Bridge.

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So I got the crazy idea that I wanted to do something photographically about it. I wanted to take portraits of the people I encountered there, to perhaps shed a light to the whole phenomenon that Occupy Wall Street has become. In my mind, it didn’t just have to be the protesters. This had become something more… I’m oftentimes more interested in how we perceive an event in reality than the event itself. And this perception nowadays includes and is saturated by the Media, twitter, Facebook, and every passerby with their iPhone camera. But this was crazy because I thought, “how am I going to come up with something original from something I feel everybody and their mother is covering ad nauseam?”

Only time will tell.

So wait till next week for this project. I’m really excited about it. In the meantime, enjoy these.

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Creepypasta #706: Deal Of A Lifetime

Story length: Medium

It was a deal no one could ever pass up.

Animal trials were successful. They wanted a human guinea pig. Based on my health, low risk of recidivism, and life sentence, I was given the offer. First person to be shifted from one side of the room to the other. Ninety-nine shifting tests to follow, each over a larger distance until I’m going from one continent to another. The tests should take about four hours, and then… I’m a free man.

When they put me in the pod, I felt a flash of fear, but as the teal-colored lights filled my vision, I felt just a gentle tug in my stomach, and the next thing I knew, the lights faded and I was in the receiving pod four feet away. I was fine. The following 99 tests were similarly uneventful. Shifting was a game-changing technology.

I received a new identity; I met the love of my life, Rachel. We had three gorgeous children, and I had a great career and happiness for decades. Now, dying of old age with my wife, children, and grandchildren around me, I can’t help but be thankful for being the shifting guinea pig, for otherwise, I’d still be rotting in prison alone.

But then, instead of the blackness of death, I feel a pull in my gut, and my vision fills with teal light.

“Great run on shift #1,” the tech said. “Sir, how do you feel?”

“My wife,” I stammer. “My k-kids…” My body is young, not old.

“Based on our primate tests, we suspect some mild hallucinations may be possible,” the tech said. “Ready for shift #2?”

Credits to: stellarpath

Okay so a couple of days ago I called my grandfather to wish him a happy 82nd birthday, and he was like, “Oh, we’re going out to dinner! I’m gonna get dressed up all fancy and such!”

And I’m like, “Oh, where are you going?”

And he responds, “We’re going to Wendy’s! Have you heard of that place? They have chicken sandwiches for NINETY NINE CENTS.”

My grandfather may be 82 years old and have crippling anxiety but my god the man can still make anything exciting.


Ninety-nine. You wanted to know how many of us there are? The last time I counted, I had 99 gifted friends in this borough alone. And now every single one of them is gonna know about this shit that you tried to pull. And they hate attempted murder. They really do. The cops hate it too, you know, because it’s against the law. 


John Forte - Ninety Nine (Flash The Message) featuring Wyclef Jean and Pras

making “99 Red Balloons” cool again.