gif: watsky

my mother opens the sunroof on a roadtrip at midnight and i don’t bother pretending that the stars are small enough for me to count. instead, i talk about how the closest star is 4.24 light years away and how the next closest star is 4.37 light years away and how what we see now happened years ago.

i talk about how small we are. how we’re spinning at an alarming rate but we are so incredibly minuscule compared to our planet that it’s okay. one of my brothers doesn’t care and the other is tipsy, so i’m pretty sure i’m trying to get through to myself more than anyone else.

i just forget that we aren’t important sometimes, i guess. i have the audacity to think i’ll matter in 4.24 or 4.37 light years when i’m too quiet, too human to matter now. i could die or sleep forever or never get out of bed again and all of the stars are still exploding, you know? earth is still spinning and the sun is still burning. i’m not really sure if this makes me want to thrive, or if i want to explode myself now

—  there are 7 billion, 47 million people on the planet and i have the audacity to think i matter (catherine w // sempiternalwriting)

Watsky - Lovely Things Suite Part 1: Conversations


Sooo has anyone done this yet? 

An open letter to the fat, arrogant, anti-charismatic,
National embarrassment known as President Donald Trump

The man’s irrational. He claims that I’m in league
With protestors in some vast international intrigue
Bitch, please!
You wouldn’t know what I’m doin’
You’re always goin’ berserk
But you never show up to work
Give my regards to Malania
Next time you write about my lack of moral compass
At least I did my job up in that rumpus


The line is behind me, I crossed it again
While the president lost it again
Aw, such a rough life
Better run, tell Putin
“Yo, the boss is in DC again”
Let me ask you a question. Who sits
At your desk when you’re in Mar-a-Lago
Liz was calling you a dick back in ‘16
And you really haven’t done anything new since

You nuisance with no sense
You would die of irrelevance
Go ahead, you aspire to my level
You aspire to my eminence
Say hi to the Republicans
And the spies all around you
Maybe they can confirm
I don’t care if I kill my career with this letter
I’m confining you to one term
Sit down, Trump, you fat motherfucker!
[kazoo plays Hail to the Chief]