If you've seen Sherlock Holmes, and are still harboring resentment for the thickly unoriginal plot, I'd give the soundtrack another listen.

I'm in love with the long, drawn-out notes and percussion. Instant eternal boners.

Dear World.

Klaus "Frowny Face" Kinski is Christian Bale.



Though arguably even more gibbering batshit crazy.




Edit:

Had to. HAD TO.

( Friday. )

Also, my neighborhood is a glorious frozen rink and people are having snowball fights at one in the morning. Good.

HEATHER THIS LOOKS LIKE OLD LADY NIPPLES
HEATHER THIS LOOKS LIKE SHE'S FLASHING HIM
HEATHER THIS LOOKS LIKE SHE'S STICKING HER HEAD UP HIS ASS

Okay. Fine. You win, art school. Every single critique this week, every single fucking painting I've turned in apparently looks like some Freudian brain vomit and I give up. I'm drawing cocks all night and getting this out of my system.

Dear Joshua "Sloshua" Reynolds:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, OH MAN.

xo,
Heatherface

Alright, I am hopped up on caffeine for the afternoon and curious and itching to write more, man alive, it doesn't even matter what. Since it came up in a class I never even took last semester, how do you dream? Do your everyday senses transfer over? Can you smell things, see color, taste, physically feel it? (I'm assuming no one has totally silent dreams, but do tell if you have.) Have you died? Can you read your primary language? Can you write or speak fluent what-ever-you-need-to?

I've done pretty much all of these. More specifically, I've woken up twice from dream-pain (being bitten by a wolf and having an old woman dig her nails into my feet ughhhh. I couldn't shake it off for a few seconds, either). My sense of smell isn't so great, but every once in a while I'll notice it. Once I woke up with the taste of raspberry-lemon cake for a split second. I've died loads of times, good lord. It's always got the same floating-sinking feeling to it. I also tend to fall a lot. I'm not sure how to explain it, but my dreams go off of a theme for a few days before picking up a new "storyline". The general habitat, color scheme, and emotion of a dream will carry on for a few nights, though none of the dreams really relate to each other. I also find it really rare to directly dream about what I witnessed earlier in the day.

Your turn! I missed our little chats, livejournal.

Thank you, Kate Bush, for writing a song that goes "It's a picture of Hitler. He goes DO DO DO DO DO DO."

Ohhhhhh my god oh my god oh my god the list for finals is so fucking long this time and I am 95% certain that art school is going to kill me in my sleep and nothing good is coming from sketching because I've only been using my sketchbook to take process notes for the past month WHAT WAS I THINKING. My hands are mutinous bastards!

Inspirational quotes/hot mens would be so fucking appreciated oh my god you'll get a real post when I come back from the grave and everything.

I feel like kind of an asshole for posting nothing but pictures and videos for the past two, three months, BUT




What did I tell you. One day, I'll make a Laibach video with puppets and you'll understand. You'll all understand.

Haven't done this in a while.