I’m at the workshop of some guy to get a jacket chain stitched. The workshop is in a building behind a house in Chicago. If you’ve been around here, you know what I’m talking about. The artist is this British dude that has very wild energy. Kind of reminds me of that dude from Idles, but smaller. Looks like he doesn’t shower.
So I brought him a jacket and he completely disassembled it. I start freaking out because I remember that I already have a deal with a different artist (I am actually working with IRL). At one point his mom is there and he kicks us out? So I’m just chilling in the backyard with his mom while she’s on a swing and I’m sitting at one of the many lined up picnic tables.
When he was done it was an incredibly beautiful and creative jacket, far beyond what I had asked. I realize that I was still getting my husband jacket made by the other artist, but this jacket was for me. I hadn’t even paid. I was worried about paying for another jacket. I was confused why he made something so intricate. Did this guy love me? Did I love him? I sat on him and kissed him. He tasted like cigarettes. I started leaving and he asked if I wanted to make babies and I said I already had some.
Jul 16, 2024
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First thing she told me about him was that he had weird style. A 2015 hypebeast who got a gig vibe curating for organic grocery stores. That’s what she told me about him. She showed me a picture of him where he had his lips all pursed up like he was trying to show off his jawline— but in a knowing, self-effacing “don’t I look so silly making this handsome pouty face” way. Shortly after she asked me to look at this picture & make fun of him & after I had complied, she told me something interesting.
“He’s got this car. It’s a complete, from scratch model of the car from that lindsay Lohan movie herbie, fully loaded.”
I sat up, cross legged
”not just the chassis, not just the engine, the whole thing. He found concept art & behind the scenes schematics of herbie. He tracked down each part & made absolute sure to get them as authentically as possible. He didn’t include anything unfaithful to the original vision. He mentioned something about being unable to be unfaithful to it. That working on ’Him’, he kept calling the car ‘Him’, that this was his way of discovering what faith meant.”
This confused me, so i asked my friend to keep explaining.
“It’s like— here’s the way he put it. It’s like this, you can get a ready made replica of just about any famous car you could dream of jsut by knowing the right people. But a replica is not “Him”. He told me that he had no interest in driving something sold to him with ‘authenticity’, it’s ‘faithfulness’ being a POINT OF SALE.”
I was intrigued, so I asked her point blank what she thought he got out of the whole thing. She gazed up at the ceiling for a while, I think looking at the same daddylonglegs that I was looking at earlier. The one with the big orb of eggs attached to its thorax. an orb that would burst & bring forth 10 million babydaddylonglegs into my home. After a few moments of spidergazing, she told me this, this is what she told me. Like the words were being sucked from her mouth.
”I don’t know. It might be some weird type of prayer, like he’s building himself an idol or a god or a friend or a father or a lover. He told me that when he’s inside ‘Him’, he feels in control. He feels safe. Powerful. His hands are on the wheel & Herbie responds perfectly to everything he does. There’s no resistance, like Herbie is an extension of his own flesh almost. He insists that he can hear Herbie whisper words of encouragement to him. There was something vaguely sexual about it all. It’s weird Jake, but I couldn’t tell if he was gonna laugh or cry or kiss me. And I wanted him. Badly. It was the most honest a man had ever been with me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
I asked her if she planned on seeing him again.
“I don’t know. Maybe. You know I don’t have a car. Thing is that he lives far away & the drive is kind of a bitch.”
Dec 16, 2024
Backstory: Im crushing so hard on a tattoo artist near my job and am delusionally convinced she’s my soulmate. We coincidentally have matching tattoos of the cover art for faces by mac miller high on the thigh. (for full story go look at my asks)
Update: aight… went to the tattoo shop’s 8th anniversary event just to kinda be present and participate in the art community in Puerto Rico bc I’m having trouble finding ppl I relate too and I think I can make friends w them. Didn’t rly get to chat with her much, she was being a little distant and I wasn’t going to corner her or anything. I ended up getting some flash that was super cool. after my tat was finished late that night I went for a walk to shake off the nerves of the pain n shit. Ended up getting a strange feeling to buy a bunch of ice creams for everyone in the tattoo shop party so I walked far as hell and bought like 20-30 ice creams from a 24hr bodega and came back to pass them out to everyone for free. Boom. wonderful success and made so many ppl smile. Now the shop owner n community know me and recognize my chill.
Additionally: I could not get this girl out of my head. Like I never rly date and I fr don’t like talking to girls. Im rly hyper-isolated but it’s my own doing. But she Was driving me crazy. I ended up buying her the Book of Mac memoir and planned to give it to her as a gift/tip at our booked tattoo session. I had a feeling that she’d rly like it. But that wasn’t enough. I became manic and over the course of three sessions I made her a mac miller mix. Ive attached it for u all to listen. This might’ve been overkill and I was second guessing it the whole time but I did it anyway because I’m not a pussy.
Finally: get to the tat session and was greeted with a kiss on the cheek (polite and customary for Puerto Ricans but she was rly friendly about it and she initiated). When she finished setting up our station I sit down and pull out the book. Inside the book I had written to: (her name) from: (me) and a short quote from BMO (adventure time) because it kinda just felt right. tell her hey I got this for you, I think I have a crush on you idk, but yeah this is for you. Bruh… she melted. She was like soooooooooooo happy. She had a mask on cuz she was sick but she said underneath she was blushing super hard.
we start the tattoo and I ask if I can just talk to her while she does it. I’m rly shy and not the best at convo but throughout the entire tattoo I just picked her brain to try and get to know her. Bruh… we r so alike. Like mind blowingly alike. Talked about music and movies and clothes. But she was kinda dry and quick w her chatting. It took a while for her to warm up a bit and relax. Plus I’m funny so she was giggling after every other thing I said. Teased her a bit. Flirted a bit. But nothing too heavy. By the end of the tattoo session we were on aux together going back and forth w songs talking about why we like them n stuff. Like at this point I can tell we’re friends. Finally the tat is finished and it’s great. She’s an apprentice and not super experienced but it was exactly what I wanted. As we were saying our goodbyes she thanks me again for the book. I told her I had one more thing to give her but she had to give me her number first… she freaks out a little bit. I say no pressure obviously, but she’s like “yes pressure“ I’m like what?? She gives me her number and gives me a super quick and tight hug. Idk how to describe it but it was like a shy, fast “I need to hug you before anyone sees” hug. as I’m walking out the shop I text her the link to the mix n head home.
I get home, she texts saying thanks for the mix that it’s rly cool and thanks again for the book. and then…. She tells me she’s dating someone 🥴 and didn’t know how to tell me in person and froze when I asked for her number n if its alright if we’re just friends. I ate that punch, said hey no prob we can be friends, which is totally fine like I fr don’t mind, but the thing is I KNOW MY WHOLE SCHEME WORKED. Like the way she was reacting to me and how comfortable she got and how cool our convo was like I know she recognized how cool I was. And she told me I was rly cool like she texted saying she thinks im cool. So like… fuck. Idk. and She didn’t even say she has a boyfriend, she just said she’s dating someone so it doesn’t even sound serious. Idk what to do. She didn’t respond to my last text. so this is where we stand. I think I fucked her world up tho. No way she’s not thinking about me now.
What do yall think?
Jul 19, 2024
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In 2014 I went with my buddy and my girlfriend of the time (now best friend) to see Danny Brown. I hadn’t slept the night before, and we were in a bit of a low key tweaker phase, fitting for seeing the self described Adderall Admiral, and I think between me and GF we honked up easily 300mg of adderall and drank a 12 pack and a pint, before the show. The show was so fucking lit. He passed blunts around the crowd the whole time, it ripped, my heart rate was like a Venetian Snares song, I wanted to swallow the crowd with the force of my body. Later me and girlfriend had a horrendous fight that kept going on in cycles all night in the hotel room that we shared between the three of us. We were too drunk to consistently remember what it was we were fighting about, and my homegirl in the other bed had to keep getting up and running interference, deftly explaining to each of us what we as well as the other person are doing wrong, probably less out of pure kindness and more out of at least a bit of rational calculation like “if I can socially engineer the fighting out of these two fuckheads I love but can’t stand right now, I can finally sleep.” The girlfriend and I probably broke up with each other ten times throughout the night. We slept gloriously eventually and the next day in New York was beautiful and it was truly as though nothing ever happened even though three times she tried to “take a bath” in a hotel shower that was not remotely a bathtub.
Five years later I’m in grad school dating a tiny smokeshow gothy hipster nerd stripper — I don’t know how I managed it ever, really, I was bald as fuck by then and a skinnyfat overstressed drunk — but it was fabulous, we didn’t have a whole lot in common background wise or anything but it was, for a while, a sublime dynamic. The show was Tommy Wright III, and like all ratchet-chic girls, she correctly loved the horror-tinged blown out grit of Memphis style rap. It was at the spot where I met the lady, a sort of quasi-speakeasy hole in the wall club in DC that doesn’t exist anymore, but where I’d ended up, alone in a new city on Halloween when I sidled up next to the alluring aforementioned, who chided me for not wearing a costume. “I live in a closet, I don’t have costume stuff, what are you?” “I’m a slut for Halloween,” she said, wry and earnest. I invited her to my closet of an $800/month room and she stayed for four straight days, smoking weed and reading manga while I put off the mountains of grown up homework I had. Anyway, like two weeks into dating this show comes up, and she wears basically the same little red silky Nothing shirt thing and I’m in a black beret and leather jacket and jump boots. They can’t tell that I’m not *actually* Cool, I assured myself. It had been months of total isolation and School, policy and philosophy, no culture no parties. Tommy’s set was short and a blast. After the show was the more memorable part. She wanted to talk to Tommy but at the same time, I was on a mission to the ATM several blocks away to purchase cocaine for us to inhale. I get back and they’re still talking, her and Tommy Wright, the legend, with the goofy perm hair still. Apparently he’d asked if she’d go with him to his truck and smoke a blunt and she told him no, she had a boyfriend — fuck, I could have hardly blamed her if she took him up on it. But then we hung out with Tommy, mellow and normal and tired seeming. Forgot to mention her friend was there too. Tommy politely declines doing coke with us. The three of us evacuate the baggy of terrible cocaine seemingly in one instant. Girlfriend’s friend wanted to fuck us both, she whispered to girlfriend. I declined.
Not sure this answers the prompt but it scratched an itch
3d ago
Top Recs from @mossyelfie
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For some reason this brings me into my parasympathetic nervous system
Mar 28, 2025
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Humans have always danced. It is part of who we are, yet we have been conditioned to be self conscious, to think that we do not move our bodies good enough. Dancing is beyond judgement. Dancing is not a skill, it is our soul moving through our bodies, expressed in movement. Dancing is healing. Dancing is bodily autonomy. Dancing is FUN! Any feeling you are feeling can be moved through with dance yet even alone, you fear looking foolish. Kill the judge in your mind, shut the fuck up, and MOVE 🌊
2d ago
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FINDING SOMEONE ANNOYING AND IMMEDIATELY REALIZING IT’S BECAUSE THEY REMIND YOU OF YOUR YOUNGER SELF
OH BROTHER THIS GUY actually needs a lot of empathy and understanding
Apr 2, 2025