““Money is like a sixth sense without which you cannot make use of the other five.”
—W. Somerset Maugham
Title: Cheerleader Artist: St. Vincent 20 plays
St. Vincent Cheerleader
[…] Incapable of living with people, of speaking. Complete immersion in myself, thinking of myself. Apathetic, witless, fearful. I have nothing to say to anyone—never.
Franz Kafka, diary entry dated April 27, 1915
I thought this book was going to be a saucy tale about kinky sexual fetishes but was deeply disappointed to find it was an overlong boring book about some guy with a club foot. Don’t be fooled by the title.
Amazon review of “Of Human Bondage” by W. Somerset Maugham (via unsocial-socialist)
A music fan that doesn’t have it in them to find new music anymore is like absolute death to me. What are you even doing being alive if you’re not trying to constantly grow? And I don’t mean just in terms of music, but in terms in pushing yourself to try different foods and watch different kinds of movies. The world encourages you to lock into a particular routine. I fucking hate when I hear people in their 50s say, “I’m too old to change.” Fuck you, you’re lucky to be alive, asshole. Why don’t you try to grow? It’s a gift to get to be born and not suddenly die of cancer or get hit by a car. One day, you’re gonna be a rotting body in the ground and you’re gonna be like, “Wow, I kinda wish I listened to new music from ages 30 to 70.”