what troubled me some years ago is nothing i care about now, and my troubles and woes today would've seemed childish to my younger self, but if there's any exception to this, it's this, i know for sure the 16 year old me would've been just as bummed out about this as i am now, thinking they're doomed for having been born this late, and how it's not fair that they have to see the death of the few brilliant people left, those who have affected them greatly. Since i haven't been 16 for a while now and on account of the contrived maturity that caught up to me with the dread that came with the added candles to the annual celebration's cakes, today I'm able to read much more into this, i still have something to flex on the future generations, to gen beta and all the rascals yet to come, and that is that i lived in the same time as Sir David Lynch.
a fragment of the This Year’s Model contact sheet
Brian Eno, 1972
Third night of rewatching Twin Peaks with my mom, she said this fbi agent guy is very like you, right when Coop was info dumping about Tibet. Got likened to Dale Cooper but cost me getting my tea clocked.
River Phoenix and Keanu Reeves, by Bruce Weber, Los Angeles, 1991
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The Death of Hyacinthos - Jean Broc
David
Bob Dylan not wanting to get out of bed either
Bernard Queysanne - The Man Who Sleeps (1974)