Sharp as Teeth and Stars

I was born blown minded with an eye on oblivion

Lastfm

AIM = SomaCherub

Wed Aug 27
paulslabyrinth:

Freddy Mercury “I Want To Break Free”

paulslabyrinth:

Freddy Mercury “I Want To Break Free”

(Source: toferkhris, via artbear)

paintedcorpse:

my first impression when meeting people

(Source: immaculateabortion)

hellas-inhabitants:

Archaeological Museum of Delphi. Head of gold and ivory statue probably depicting Apollo. 6th century. B.C.
Αρχαιολογικό Μουσείο Δελφών. Κεφαλή χρυσελεφάντινου αγάλματος που πιθανόν παρίστανε τον Απόλλωνα. 6ος αι. π.Χ.

hellas-inhabitants:

Archaeological Museum of Delphi. Head of gold and ivory statue probably depicting Apollo. 6th century. B.C.

Αρχαιολογικό Μουσείο Δελφών. Κεφαλή χρυσελεφάντινου αγάλματος που πιθανόν παρίστανε τον Απόλλωνα. 6ος αι. π.Χ.

(via bhollen8)

Tue Aug 26
kenyatta:


His name, he revealed, was Christopher Thomas Knight. Born on December 7, 1965. He said he had no address, no vehicle, did not file a tax return, and did not receive mail. He said he lived in the woods.
"For how long?" wondered Perkins-Vance.
Knight thought for a bit, then asked when the Chernobyl nuclear-plant disaster occurred. He had long ago lost the habit of marking time in months or years; this was just a news event he happened to remember. The nuclear meltdown took place in 1986, the same year, Knight said, he went to live in the woods. He was 20 years old at the time, not long out of high school. He was now 47, a middle-aged man.
Knight stated that over all those years he slept only in a tent. He never lit a fire, for fear that smoke would give his camp away. He moved strictly at night. He said he didn’t know if his parents were alive or dead. He’d not made one phone call or driven in a car or spent any money. He had never in his life sent an e-mail or even seen the Internet.

(via The Strange Tale of the North Pond Hermit)
h/t mememolly

This was a really fascinating read.

True hermits, according to Chris, do not write books, do not have friends, and do not answer questions. I asked why he didn’t at least keep a journal in the woods. Chris scoffed. “I expected to die out there. Who would read my journal? You? I’d rather take it to my grave.” The only reason he was talking to me now, he said, is because he was locked in jail and needed practice interacting with others.
"But you must have thought about things," I said. "About your life, about the human condition."
Chris became surprisingly introspective. “I did examine myself,” he said. “Solitude did increase my perception. But here’s the tricky thing—when I applied my increased perception to myself, I lost my identity. With no audience, no one to perform for, I was just there. There was no need to define myself; I became irrelevant. The moon was the minute hand, the seasons the hour hand. I didn’t even have a name. I never felt lonely. To put it romantically: I was completely free.”
That was nice. But still, I pressed on, there must have been some grand insight revealed to him in the wild.
He returned to silence. Whether he was thinking or fuming or both, I couldn’t tell. Though he did arrive at an answer. I felt like some great mystic was about to reveal the Meaning of Life.
"Get enough sleep."
He set his jaw in a way that conveyed he wouldn’t be saying more. This is what he’d learned. I accepted it as truth.

kenyatta:

His name, he revealed, was Christopher Thomas Knight. Born on December 7, 1965. He said he had no address, no vehicle, did not file a tax return, and did not receive mail. He said he lived in the woods.

"For how long?" wondered Perkins-Vance.

Knight thought for a bit, then asked when the Chernobyl nuclear-plant disaster occurred. He had long ago lost the habit of marking time in months or years; this was just a news event he happened to remember. The nuclear meltdown took place in 1986, the same year, Knight said, he went to live in the woods. He was 20 years old at the time, not long out of high school. He was now 47, a middle-aged man.

Knight stated that over all those years he slept only in a tent. He never lit a fire, for fear that smoke would give his camp away. He moved strictly at night. He said he didn’t know if his parents were alive or dead. He’d not made one phone call or driven in a car or spent any money. He had never in his life sent an e-mail or even seen the Internet.

(via The Strange Tale of the North Pond Hermit)

h/t mememolly

This was a really fascinating read.

True hermits, according to Chris, do not write books, do not have friends, and do not answer questions. I asked why he didn’t at least keep a journal in the woods. Chris scoffed. “I expected to die out there. Who would read my journal? You? I’d rather take it to my grave.” The only reason he was talking to me now, he said, is because he was locked in jail and needed practice interacting with others.

"But you must have thought about things," I said. "About your life, about the human condition."

Chris became surprisingly introspective. “I did examine myself,” he said. “Solitude did increase my perception. But here’s the tricky thing—when I applied my increased perception to myself, I lost my identity. With no audience, no one to perform for, I was just there. There was no need to define myself; I became irrelevant. The moon was the minute hand, the seasons the hour hand. I didn’t even have a name. I never felt lonely. To put it romantically: I was completely free.”

That was nice. But still, I pressed on, there must have been some grand insight revealed to him in the wild.

He returned to silence. Whether he was thinking or fuming or both, I couldn’t tell. Though he did arrive at an answer. I felt like some great mystic was about to reveal the Meaning of Life.

"Get enough sleep."

He set his jaw in a way that conveyed he wouldn’t be saying more. This is what he’d learned. I accepted it as truth.

(via fatmanatee)

inneroptics:

"Eccentricity is not, as dull people would have us believe, a form of madness. It is often a kind of innocent pride, and the man of genius and the aristocrat are frequently regarded as eccentrics because genius and aristocrat are entirely unafraid of and uninfluenced by the opinions and vagaries of the crowd."
~ Edith-Sitwell
 

inneroptics:

"Eccentricity is not, as dull people would have us believe, a form of madness. It is often a kind of innocent pride, and the man of genius and the aristocrat are frequently regarded as eccentrics because genius and aristocrat are entirely unafraid of and uninfluenced by the opinions and vagaries of the crowd."

~ Edith-Sitwell

 

(via langoaurelian)

I have a nickname

I’ve found out that I am sometimes called “the professor” by the other teachers.  I am very much ok with this, even if it is mocking my overly academic personality.

Mon Aug 25

The B-52’s - Dance This Mess Around

Any day can be made better with some B-52’s in the morning.

Why don’t you dance with me? 
I’m not no Limburger 

brianmichaelbendis:

Marvel Swimsuit Special: Doctor Strangeby P. Craig Russell

brianmichaelbendis:

Marvel Swimsuit Special: Doctor Strange
by P. Craig Russell

(Source: marvel-dc-art)

Sun Aug 24

feariess:

Taylor Swift performing “Shake It Off” at the 2014 VMA’s (HD)

I found this entirely enjoyable.  I find this track infectiously happy.  Taylor Swift has never been on my personal music radar, but I like this new “era”.

(Source: youtube.com)

122782:

some of my favorite people

My favorite people with assorted wigs and hats.  

122782:

some of my favorite people

My favorite people with assorted wigs and hats.  

Sat Aug 23

Getting skyped into B&B’s wedding reception and missing everyone terribly.