Suspicious |
I'm Tiffany, and I live in an 'I've got it easy' neighborhood of Chicago. I trip and stumble over punctuation, and I post every Chuck Klosterman quote I come upon. Que pasa? |
I wish I could attach my name to your interests. At least, the interests you had after meeting me. I knowingly provide fodder for the conversations you have with other people. (The ones that contain absolutely no mention of me, of course.) Is that fair? Can one really own one’s own preferences for movies, literature, music…? I’d like to. I’m aware of how hypocritical I’m being. Such is the essence of being human, you’d likely tell me.
Name-dropping is an avenue in which to become acquainted with people. We bond over liking the same things; fawning over the same artists. By that logic, you should be still be excited to talk to me. But you’re greedy. There’s novelty in having self-congratulating conversations with people who are not me, despite how LIKE me they are. Then again, perhaps I’ve just become a part of you and paradoxically unimportant. It’s easier to push someone away once you’ve absorbed all of their intrigue.
I bet, you think this song is about you.
The name-drop is so fucking crucial.
Edgar Allan Poe (via enfantmort)
Cherie (discussing relationships in Lord of the Rings)
Ernest Hemingway (via toastysocks)
Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower (via jacqueline-bui)
Old Flame, Arcade Fire
(via quitecheeky)
I find it so funny when people I barely know think they have me pegged—they think I’m structured and restrained, and when evidence of...
Placebo | Running Up That Hill