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[visceravalentines]

There is absolutely something so magnetic and charged and erotic about Benson forcing Randy to really feel his own humanity for the first time. Like he reduces Randy down to his most innate, primitive brain functions over and over again in this movie. He forces Randy to access death on such a primal, intimate level - to imagine himself dying a hundred times at Benson's hand, to clean the viscera of his coworkers together drenched in their blood, to see the way a man's face looks after it has been entirely beaten into itself. Randy, who was barely a real person at the start of the day, has now been confronted with the most graphic, base experiences humanity can offer. The smell of people he once knew's insides. The way his vision fades with Benson's hand around his neck, controlling the function of his airway. How his blood vessels break and leak their contents into the soft tissue of his skin under Benson's fingers. The smell of a man who just killed 3 people for you. The first time you've ever felt special. The inherent intimacy of wearing someone else's clothes. The wild desperation of knowing you're being controlled. I cannot get enough of them

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literally cannot get enough of the idea of motel rats randy and benson. fake names and hemming and hawing over how many beds, at first. paying cash and dodging questions about who they are and who they are to each other. investigating each new place for bugs and amenities and sturdy locks on the doors. balancing on the mattress to disable the smoke detector. rooms too hot, rooms too cold. stripping off layers or huddling together for warmth. watching trash TV. ignoring trash TV. gun on the nightstand, smokes on the nightstand. shaking the shit out of the vending machine at the end of the hall. clothes all over the floor. candy wrappers and cigarette butts. showers with shitty pressure and short-lived hot water so they double up, just to be efficient. benson grabs the gun and watches through the curtains when it gets rowdy in the parking lot. randy catches spiders under cups and takes them outside. they take care of each other, protect one another. find hope and happiness amidst a rotating backdrop of bleak and grimy dead-end towns just like home. grow and heal in unexpected ways. they start to think the same way. communicate with fewer words. smoke the same brand. only get one room key. never go anywhere alone. wouldn't be themselves without the other. inseparable, halves of a whole, couldn't be any other way.

[visceravalentines]

i hope you all know that the silly way i write/type shit on here like im a feral middle schooler is simply how i let loose from writing the meticulously crafted corporate business emails i write while at my big boy job.

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should i get into bird watching?

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nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom

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Tides

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Highplains whitetails feeding after dark (x)

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"i wish i could exfoliate my brain" you can. by reading things that challenge you.

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Being a young adult is so strange. You enter a coffee shop. The 20 year old girl waiting behind you cried all night because she just came to a new city for university and she feels so alone. That 27 year old guy over there works a job he is overqualified for, he lives with his parents and wants to move out but doesn't know what to do about it. That one 24 year old dude already has a car, a house, and a job waiting for him once he graduates thanks to his dad's connections. The 26 year old barista couldn't complete his higher education because he has to work and take care of his family. The 28 year old girl sitting next to you has no friends to go out with so she is texting her mother. That couple (both 25 years old) are married and the girl is pregnant. The 29 year old writing something on her laptop has realized that she chose the wrong major so she is trying to start all over. We are not alone in this, but we are actually so alone. Do you feel me

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“So, what now, then?”

“I’m gonna eat my omelette is ‘what now then.’”

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A customer contacted our team with questions, and then finished their email with: "I am daunted by the complexities and unknowns." I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.

[visceravalentines]

Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle Vincent van Gogh, Garden at Arles (1888)

[visceravalentines]

GRAVE CONVERSATIONS with David Dastmalchian

Episode 1: Kate Siegel

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mutuals you would sit on a power line like little birds with