spike jonze, you’re my hero.
the next generation.
Devendra Banhart
(Source: esylelyse)
In my next life I want to live my life backwards. You start out dead and get that out of the way. Then you wake up in an old people’s home feeling better every day. You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, and then when you start work, you get a gold watch and a party on your first day. You work for 40 years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You party, drink alcohol, and are generally promiscuous, then you are ready for high school. You then go to primary school, you become a kid, you play. You have no responsibilities, you become a baby until you are born. And then you spend your last 9 months floating in luxurious spa-like conditions with central heating and room service on tap, larger quarters every day and then Voila! You finish off as an orgasm!
—woody allen (via esylelyse)
Pistol Mcfly - Toast
beat culture - if only you’d find a way and talk to me, so you can see. unveiling the complexities of endless facades has become a great task at hand. paralyzed and fingerless, the quest to overcome this fear seems impossible. but anything is possible.
Beat Culture has produced indescribable ambient masterpieces by combining nature samples, instrumentals, vocals, upon many other unlikely musical sources. Sunik Kim refers to himself as just “some guy making music” on twitter. But with such incredible creations, both lively and relaxing, Sunik Kim is not the average beat conductor you come across. Each song narrates some kind of tale from its beginning, climax, to end. At 17 years old, Kim has authored perfect stories with his use of well-balanced sounds in this evolving beat generation.
smoke me.
explosions in the sky - your hand in mine while taking the road less traveled. stumbling up the steep hill, there’s nothing ahead to see as i sulk into the deep shadows of curiosity. underdressed to impress, the demeanor couldn’t fool as the bitter taste of a soiled cap was diminished by cheap wine and tobacco. we’d made it half way and had a foreign route to follow. at last, the flat cliff welcomed us to watch the explosions in the sky. there, we’d kiss and tell a one-sided conversation, an unfinished story. the summer night’s meteorites, a backdrop, to compliment the words you articulated as i did nothing more than listen. you were right, i felt trapped, in your arms, in the presence of the empty sky filled with promise.
m83 - midnight city, the place you can’t tell time - wasting away waiting. inhaling the frigid air, the skyline reflected off the water as they looked in along the shore. they ran, hearts beating in harmony with rocks ricocheting off the train. finding life in a place of mortality.
Flying Lotus & J Dilla
