A STOLEN STUFF

had a bad feeling, and this song is keep playing in my head 😱

“Don’t Speak”

You and me
We used to be together
Everyday together always
I really feel
That I’m losing my best friend
I can’t believe
This could be the end
It looks as though you’re letting go
And if it’s real
Well I don’t want to know

Don’t speak
I know just what you’re saying
So please stop explaining
Don’t tell me cause it hurts
Don’t speak
I know what you’re thinking
I don’t need your reasons
Don’t tell me cause it hurts

Our memories
Well, they can be inviting
But some are altogether
Mighty frightening
As we die, both you and I
With my head in my hands
I sit and cry

Don’t speak
I know just what you’re saying
So please stop explaining
Don’t tell me cause it hurts (no, no, no)
Don’t speak
I know what you’re thinking
I don’t need your reasons
Don’t tell me cause it hurts

It’s all ending
I gotta stop pretending who we are…
You and me I can see us dying…are we?

Don’t speak
I know just what you’re saying
So please stop explaining
Don’t tell me cause it hurts (no, no, no)
Don’t speak
I know what you’re thinking
I don’t need your reasons
Don’t tell me cause it hurts
Don’t tell me cause it hurts!
I know what you’re saying
So please stop explaining

Don’t speak,
don’t speak,
don’t speak,
oh I know what you’re thinking
And I don’t need your reasons
I know you’re good,
I know you’re good,
I know you’re real good
Oh, la la la la la la La la la la la la
Don’t, Don’t, uh-huh Hush, hush darlin’
Hush, hush darlin’ Hush, hush
don’t tell me tell me cause it hurts
Hush, hush darlin’ Hush, hush darlin’
Hush, hush don’t tell me tell me cause it hurts

magnificent work of art

The know-how to properly shoot day-to-night or night-to-day when you’re capturing a time-lapse can add a special something to your final product, but the task may seem daunting at first. That’s why photographer Preston Kanak has put together this comprehensive and easy-to-follow tutorial that discusses three approaches to shooting the perfect day-to-night time-lapse.

Old-school coffee shops called kopitiams dot nearly every neighborhood in the country, pouring thick coffee concoctions that occasionally include butter.

From museums to meals, playgrounds to pit stops, here is some carefully culled advice for covering the city right.

chels:

Billed as “a running diary of an instant tennis classic,” this piece by Brian Phillips is an instant classic itself. I don’t know why tennis lends itself to good, funny, illuminating writing more than other sports (Who birthed this? Xan Brooks? David Foster Wallace? I’ll do some more thinking about that later), but writers who can find the humor and the drama of the game at the same time are some of my favorites. Here are some choice excerpts from Phillips’ diary: 

7:16 — Djokovic wins the first game. He’s looking tense but confident, like an anal-retentive piano teacher backstage at the big recital. Nadal, as always, is scowling like a king who’s just condemned his only brother to death.

7:20 — Djokovic has the best service-return game “arguably in our history,” McEnroe says. I love the way tennis people use the word “our” when they talk about the game. It’s like they’re a small, fiercely proud mountain nation or a clan of non-lunching Highlanders or something.

8:25 — Granted, I’ve been typing a lot, but I haven’t seen a single accidental close-up of Rafa digging his underwear out of his ass crack yet. Credit to today’s cameramen — they’re the real heroes out there.

8:29 — Nadal is looking extremely calm — he’s sneering only a little, which is like the tenderest expression from him. Djokovic is looking both bug-eyed and vengeful, like an Imperial admiral who just got chewed out, but not quite killed, by Darth Vader.

9:08 — I blinked and it was 3-0. I’d write that Djokovic blinked, but I’m pretty sure Djokovic has trained himself to blink 2,500 times in a row right before going to bed and never at any other moment.

9:30 — After bouncing the ball for 11 consecutive minutes before his serve, Nadal gets handed a time violation, leading to a long, angry speech from McEnroe about how all umpires should be sacrificed to a volcano.

9:52 — If these guys were really metal bands, I think Djokovic would be called Ritual of Panic and Nadal would be called Red Trajectory. To extend this metaphor, Andy Murray would be called Hunger Dragon and Roger Federer would be a string octet.

I tried to control myself and not excerpt the whole thing, but there is just so much that I loved about this piece. Give it a quick read and then head over to whatever watching situation you have to catch the finals. God, I love tennis season.

it’s a great and entertaining… if not enlightening piece of writing about the clash of titans in Roland Garros

animation about a pig who must choose between love and gluttony