thank god i have my fargo guy friends to keep me grounded.
“I think same sex couples should be able to get married.
(via thewhitneyann)
“All technology extends some pre-existing human urge or condition: a hammer extends the hand, a pencil extends the mind, a piano extends the voice. All technology amplifies something we already possess.
Technologies become viral when they amplify something that is already in us, but blocked. When a technology eliminates a major blockage, the uptake can be explosive. Facebook gained 500 million users in under 5 years by finding a basic human blockage (our need to share and connect), and offering a way around it — as a surgeon might extract a clot to restore the flow of blood.
When designing technology, you should understand what human urge or condition you will be extending.
There are many kinds of urges. There are the seven deadly sins (lust, greed, envy, sloth, gluttony, pride, and wrath). There is the urge to find meaning, joy, wonder, and happiness. There is the urge to explore, to improve, to learn, to gain wisdom, to teach. There is the urge to feel loved, to connect, to feel useful, to nurture, to help, to belong.
Each urge, when extended, creates a different kind of outcome and a different kind of person.
When millions of people have a given urge extended, it creates a different kind of world.
So choose your urges wisely.
some days are better than others, but i still love advertising.
(via witanddelight)
“Once a little boy sent me a charming card with a little drawing on it. I loved it. I answer all my children’s letters — sometimes very hastily — but this one I lingered over. I sent him a card and I drew a picture of a Wild Thing on it. I wrote, “Dear Jim: I loved your card.” Then I got a letter back from his mother and she said, “Jim loved your card so much he ate it.” That to me was one of the highest compliments I’ve ever received. He didn’t care that it was an original Maurice Sendak drawing or anything. He saw it, he loved it, he ate it.
Maurice Sendak (via bobulate)
(via kathleenjoy)
Dreams
For a little while, there was all the things we talked about and all of those things were love.
There was a restlessness we equated to lack of love, to missing love, and oh, god, I am so tired of talking about love. I am not here to talk about love because I don’t know what it is and I don’t know where to find it and I am tired of making up solutions to answer these questions.
I want to talk about dreams, I want to talk about the real things that might make you happy that are also things you can control. I want to talk about the core of you, the bones and muscle and insides of you.
If you’re lucky, which I think you are, you have a passion. You never call it your passion because that sounds pretentious and difficult, but that’s what it really is. For me, it’s sitting in front of my computer and trying to find all the little words I have in my head that want to be big nice words. For others, it’s television or paint or numbers or putting their hands in the dirt or some shit. It’s the REAL GOOD you found between being a child who wanted to be a princess and an adult who just wanted to pay their bills. It’s the burn in your stomach you forget about when you think too hard about your heart, or your brain, or why you should maybe go to the dentist. Gut! It’s the something you are on this earth for, not the somebody.
Remember you were put here, maybe, to make an impression—a billion particles that have the chance to make something of all of it. Remember you are a billion particles and not a missed chance with an idiot boy or a paycheck or anything else that happens again and again. Really, it’s kind of like eating breakfast on a Wednesday—it’s forgotten until it isn’t and only then you remember how damn good it is.
Today, I had a cup of coffee and I walked around in the daylight and I realized how important it was to choose a piece of fruit in the sun and smell the char of the hot dog stands and to simply be out in the afternoon—without the short skirts of night, without the walks to work of Monday, just a lazy lull. I think I wrote an entire something in my head about the subway grates and the bite of egg yolk and the confused calm I always feel at 2pm on a weekend when I have the chance to.I write a lot of things in my head that never make their way to paper, and I think it’s funny and also terrible that these things float around somewhere I can’t find them 2 hours later. Then, I am okay with being a lot of things I put together that I can’t always remember, but always love when they happen. I also thought briefly about how much I wanted somebody to sit with while we sat in our own heads, and also how much I liked both long and clipped sentences. So.
But sometimes, oh sometimes, it is so much better to think about the real dreams. The stuff that gets your motor going, the stuff that you used to think about before you thought about love. I’ll call it passion again, although that word still kind of kicks me a bit.
What I mean by that is you have this in your hand ALREADY. It’s there, in all the times you are by yourself and you are wrongly using those times by yourself to think about the stuff you don’t have. Love is hard to find, okay, but love is simple. There is more to life than what makes hearts beating—there is what you have for yourself and what you build for yourself and what you can hold in your hand when everything else goes through like sand.
Let all that is inside of you get you through everything else. Let it pulse through your veins like fire, let it move through you like determination and spit and all the things you want to have for other things. Let it be the moving force in you, and let the rest come later. Become the best thing you can be in a million ways other than somebody else and circumstance.
It will be the things you dream about when you remember how to dream.
it’s the best thing that you ever had. the best thing that you ever, ever had.
