Cherry Amber
People who take my fancy to draw…Daisy Lola
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“The people who run our cities dont understand graffiti because they think nothing has the right to exist unless it makes a profit. The people who truly deface our neighborhoods are the companies that scrawl giant slogans across buildings and buses trying to make us feel inadequate unless we buy their stuff.
You owe the companies nothing. You especially don’t owe them any courtesy. They have re-arranged the world to put themselves in front of you. They never asked for your permission, don’t even start asking for theirs.
Any advertisement in public space that gives you no choice whether you see it or not is yours, it belongs to you, its yours to take, rearrange and re use. Asking for permission is like asking to keep a rock someone just threw at your head.”
- Banksy
”
(via youallstarebutyoullneversee)
thesunalsorisesforyou is my 100th follower! :D Thank you!
:D anytime!
(Source: littlemissvengenz)
She had always consciously or unconsciously formed fear into a simple equation: fear = unknown. And to solve the equation, one simply reduced the problem to simple algebraic terms, thus: unknown = creaky board (or whatever), creaky board = nothing to be afraid of.
In the modern world all terrors could be gutted by simple use of the transitive axiom of equality. Some fears were justified, of course (you don’t drive when you’re too plowed to see, don’t extend the hand of friendship to snarling dogs, don’t go parking with boys you don’t know - how did the old joke go? Screw or walk?), but until now she had not believed that some fears were larger than comprehension, apocalyptic and nearly paralyzing. This equation was insoluble. The act of moving forward at all became heroism.
She leaned out, caught him under the armpits, and dragged him up until he had caught a grip on the windowsill. Then he jackknifed himself in neatly. His sneakered feet thumped the carpet, and then the house was still again.
They found themselves listening to the silence, fascinated by it. There did not even seem to be the faint, high hum that comes in utter stillness, the sound of nerve endings idling in neutral. There was only the great dead soundlessness and the beat of blood in their own ears.
And yet they both knew, of course. They were not alone.
