Your web-browser is very outdated, and as such, this website may not display properly. Please consider upgrading to a modern, faster and more secure browser. Click here to do so.
I think I already got everybody, but for those of you who were asleep in the middle of the night like normal people: let me know if you want the password to my census video.
All right, I did the thing, with my face, I’m trying to upload it now, it’s gonna be password-protected, if you want the password I guess like this or send me a message, and I’ll send it to you (within reason, not if you’re a rando, if you’re someone I know).
A poem for Harry Styles?: "Fame is a fickle food (1702)" BY EMILY DICKINSON Fame is a fickle food/Upon a shifting plate/Whose table once a/Guest but not/The second time is set/Whose crumbs the crows inspect/And with ironic caw/Flap past it to the/Farmer’s corn/Men eat of it and die
Get your own tumblr.
You may forget butLet me tell you
this: someone in
some future time
will think of us.
—sappho, trans. mary barnard.
It would just be amazing to be remembered
like, even like, as a mum telling a daughter:
The boyband at my time,
One Direction, they just had fun,
(y’know what I mean, just)
they’re just normal guys
but terrible, terrible dancers.
HAHAHA I FORGOT I DID THIS WHAT A DICK
I wish I knew anything about film so I could make a five-minute film of the Harry Tree, it would be shot like a Taylor Swift perfume commercial with lots of lens flare and the camera getting too close to things and gauzy dresses. But then it would be unsatisfying anyway, because I couldn’t get Harry Styles to star in it and the thing that really breaks my heart is the thought of that second spring, looking at the tree and seeing all their little faces crying, always, a whole spring and summer of Harrys crying because they know they’re going to be taken away from you
Page 1 of 452