yakitate-art

Tinkerbell and the Flying Flagship When I was in high school, I had exactly two priorities. I could name them to anyone who asked, in the exact order they came, without a moment's hesitation. So prompt was I that during obligatory counseling sessions with my dean to prepare me for college, the entire topic of self-goals and direction would be stricken from the scheduled chit-chats. I had my directions already. Number two. LOOKING THE PART. My second priority was looking the part. Spare money I made working various part-time retail jobs often handed out to the young and stupid was stored away. The psuedo-off-shore numbers would rise and ris

New York gets fucking cold. I hadn't investigated the reason for it yet, because I was too forward-thinking to look around me for longer than three milliseconds. But if I had, I'd be informed of the pressure tunnel located over the metropolis, which caused all sorts of weather anomalies. One of them being tornado level winds, another being hot summers and cold winters. Shortly, New York gets fucking cold in the goddamn winter. Because of this fact, my hands were bundled in gloves and my neck wrapped in a cute Ann Taylor cashmere scarf. Neon pink to go with the colour of my nails under the criss-cross knit, my heavy moleskin jacket screamed '

T-Rex's Ankle (Machiavelli) Machiavelli says 'stay.' At twelve, there was little else to do but watch them play. It was like living in a museum of creativity, the stoic fossils of would-be should-bes dancing around glittering marble columns and enticing children to try and pull out the supporting rod. Few children realise that when T-rex's ankle bone falls into their palm his spine can't seem to hold itself on its own. With my legs pressed against my chest, I didn't think about the cloud of dust or the foggy, distant dust that would flutter in and out of my lungs and pollute my synapses with regret. My father plucked his guitar like it was