the next time i make you, you shall not be so flawed and petty, little dream

Fiona Apple // photos: Arena Magazine  March 2000

one thing i love abt benoit (there are many - he's one of my favourite characters ever) is that he's fully aware of how much these people underestimate him. he's disarmingly sweet and seems to ramble endlessly about the most insignificant things, and tops it off with some good ol' southern charm. he knows that none of the rich assholes he often has for suspects sees him as a threat - they're underestimating him from the second they meet him. he knows this, and so he uses it to his advantage, rambling about just the right topics, asking just the right innocent questions, so by the time they remember he's the world's greatest detective, he's already got them - and i will gladly keep eating that shit up for another billion movies if they keep making em.

BREAKING NEWS: I LOVE HIM

crazy that Goncharov (1973) will be 50 years old in a few months because it seems like it just came out yesterday

Talin Tahajian, “It’s November again” [ID in ALT]

Highly recommend injecting a little whimsy into your life. Say hello to gravestones. Pretend the raindrops on your window are racing. When small children stare at you, wave. My grandfather had a studded belt that started losing its studs. He replaced them with googly eyes. Do what you can to make your life a bit lighter

Who is your heist buddy?

Louise Ross, “Collective Imagination: Goncharov (1973) (2022) as a Model for Communal Filmmaking” (Anarchist Perspectives in Film, Winter 2025)

The Met at magic hour ✨

https://www.instagram.com/p/BRdMCCDAFFU/

Tarell Alvin McCraney, co-writer of Moonlight (2016) dir. Barry Jenkins

(source)

10 Writing Tips From Margaret Atwood

1. Take a pencil to write with on aeroplanes. Pens leak. But if the pencil breaks, you can’t sharpen it on the plane, because you can’t take knives with you. Therefore: take two pencils.

2. If both pencils break, you can do a rough sharpening job with a nail file of the metal or glass type.

3. Take something to write on. Paper is good. In a pinch, pieces of wood or your arm will do.

4. If you’re using a computer, always safeguard new text with a ­memory stick.

5. Do back exercises. Pain is distracting.

6. Hold the reader’s attention. (This is likely to work better if you can hold your own.) But you don’t know who the reader is, so it’s like shooting fish with a slingshot in the dark. What ­fascinates A will bore the pants off B.

7. You most likely need a thesaurus, a rudimentary grammar book, and a grip on reality. This latter means: there’s no free lunch. Writing is work. It’s also gambling. You don’t get a pension plan. Other people can help you a bit, but ­essentially you’re on your own. ­Nobody is making you do this: you chose it, so don’t whine.

8. You can never read your own book with the innocent anticipation that comes with that first delicious page of a new book, because you wrote the thing. You’ve been backstage. You’ve seen how the rabbits were smuggled into the hat. Therefore ask a reading friend or two to look at it before you give it to anyone in the publishing business. This friend should not be someone with whom you have a ­romantic relationship, unless you want to break up.

9. Don’t sit down in the middle of the woods. If you’re lost in the plot or blocked, retrace your steps to where you went wrong. Then take the other road. And/or change the person. Change the tense. Change the opening page.

10. Prayer might work. Or reading ­something else. Or a constant visual­isation of the holy grail that is the finished, published version of your resplendent book.

(source)

I miss my girlfriend. I mean, I don’t have a girlfriend, but like, hypothetically, I miss her.