A tshit design I recently did for a Artwork Junkies competition I wish to enter
I should call them now. I know it’ll be a bundle of small talk, but isn’t that what life becomes sooner or later? It isn’t so much what is said as just saying, just hearing, just listening, just filling in the bits between hello and goodbye.
I looked over his shoulder, my pants around my ankles, at pictures of my knee. Dirty pictures of my knee. Before and after shots like I had never seen before. But why are my pants hanging down there?
“If I can use the same word to describe my time on the toilet, and use the same word to describe the feelings I have for my wife, then that word has lost its meaning.”
Apocalypse Now needs the expanse of a large screen. It eats up every inch of cinema space. And I know I’m not the only one who loves “the smell of napalm in the morning”.