thick lenses

Actually, speaking of #MaxisWhy

Do you think like when TS2 was being created, and some poor sucker at Maxis sat down to build all the premade lots, some type of boss-man would come over to their cubicle like

“Hey Ted, what’chu working on?”

“Oh, you know… just this rectangular box with these asymmetrically placed windows and this toilet shack and this traffic jam waiting to happen.”

And the boss-man would just be like

“That’s cool man, keep up the good work.”

I’m totally imagining this in a total Windows 95 office setting with huge, white box-monitors and everyone wearing huge, thick lensed glasses and faded jeans pulled really high up with pique shirts tucked into them and washed out 80s trainers… that indescribable droll humming of old computers and slow-spinning ceiling fans and the sound of someone shredding paper (probably lists titled “good ideas”) in the distance. Stale smell of coffee. A dying ficus in the corner.

Am I painting you a nice picture here?

You never read my poetry,
never noticed that my notebooks
were covered in your memories,
in horror stories and vivid dreams,
begging your love to blanket me.
I’d shiver and you kept it to yourself.
You didn’t care that I stared at
the world with thick-lensed glasses
and you didn’t know that what
you saw was a blur. You made me
believe I was making something
out of nothing instead of learning
the tune to my something, instead
of feeling it get caught in your throat
like blood filling up your lungs.
I sang yours all the way home to you.
It felt like sunshine and melted ink.

I thought I would be devastated
when you left. And I was.
The first time. The second time.
The third time. The fourth time,
I still let you coat my pillows in tears
and I felt bad for you. I thought
I owed you something because
you wouldn’t take the something
I had to give you. I thought I had to
keep pouring myself into you
until you felt it, but now I know
I can’t fill you and it is not
worth being devastated over.

So I’m thankful you got to fill me.
I’m thankful when I forget the sound
of your voice, I’ll still remember
the way you’d stumble over your words.
When I forget what you look like
from far away, I’ll still remember
the color of your eyes from up close.
My memories of you are warm,
like fire, like growth, evolution,
the way nature will keep existing
long after our love dies out. I always
begged for you to worry about me,
to wonder why I was so distant,
but with my passion fueling me,
I always used my own fists
when you didn’t fight for me.

So if you are trying to read between
the lines of my poetry now, if you
are finally wondering how I’m doing,
all this poem is saying is this:
Don’t worry about me.
I’ll be okay without you.

—  Melted ink

When we thought we couldn’t love Bryan Fuller more, he dressed up as Blade Runner’s Dr. Eldon Tyrell for Halloween. VERY accurate costume: see the pleated details on the upper sleeves and cuffs and the diamond-shaped quilting, not to mention the thick-lensed glasses.

blue night radio ♡ 160207

jonghyun: i wear glasses with really thick lenses so my eyes become really small when i wear them. everyone gets taken aback by it. my make up staff once said: “what happened? i’m a little started, please take them off.” they said that they didn’t know how to apply my make up on because my eyes looked smaller than usual. (source: thatcoolcatmeow)

Combeferre hiding Courf’s contacts case in the middle of the night so Courfeyrac is forced to wear his glasses the next morning
But Courf is a stubborn little bitch and insists on stumbling around his apartment blind rather than putting on the thick lensed, fuschia-framed, artfully rhinestoned glasses he’s had since he was a flamboyant 14-year-old