Cool.
(Source: mikedaoo)
I'm Oliver, 19, from England
Sunrises, marmalade, blackcurrant jam, dolly mixtures, runs in the rain, thunderstorms, artistic photos, lava lamps, old hoodies, spiderman, birds, see-saws, elavators, taking the long way home, 3am texts, talking to people on the train, duffelcoats, piano, Debussy, rugby matches, brown leather shoes, awful jokes, kisses on the cheek, sweet jars, koalas, cheezey pop music, classic rock, acoustic ballads, seaside.
And I'm secretly a cat. • Ask me anything you like. Or messages. They're cool too.
The Mandarin Bruise
Sunrises, marmalade, blackcurrant jam, dolly mixtures, runs in the rain, thunderstorms, artistic photos, lava lamps, old hoodies, spiderman, birds, see-saws, elavators, taking the long way home, 3am texts, talking to people on the train, duffelcoats, piano, Debussy, rugby matches, brown leather shoes, awful jokes, kisses on the cheek, sweet jars, koalas, cheezey pop music, classic rock, acoustic ballads, seaside.
And I'm secretly a cat. • Ask me anything you like. Or messages. They're cool too.
The Mandarin Bruise
Does anybody know who this is by? It seems very Spike Milligan-esque if it isn’t actually him.
(Source: kookes, via iron-peppers)
Can’t stop watching this
This is more than a little mesmerising.
In a game of dominoes like this… how do you win?
(via eyes-on-the-screen)
tumblrcrush
Ever wondered why if there’s so many single people on tumblr saying they wish they had somebody, people don’t just get together over tumblr?
I know some people have issues with dating over the internet, or meeting up with people they’ve met online, but surely having a pen friend, somebody you text, even somebody you may never even meet, just having somebody who you know cares and wants you want would make things better for people?
Why don’t people just say ‘fuck it’ and start talking. Like, really talking.
Being lonely isn’t always solved by talking to people, be it electronically or physically, but it makes it a damn lot better.
Or Maybe I’m an idealist.
Go ahead cyber-cupid, twang those fibre optic cables, love-binary’s comin’ down your way sometime soon.
I hope.
This is the best thing ever.
For this reason alone, I want a tail.
On fire.
And a bag of marshmallows.
(Source: laaurito, via eyes-on-the-screen)
Little Shop of Horrors
To audition or not to audition? That is the question.
Actually it’s more of a ‘is it actually a good show?’
Not meaning to be sceptical, but a motown musical about a man eating plant doesn’t exactly sound like something you’d want to rehearse for three weeks solid in the summer.
Just a thought.
Photo Series of the Day: Mommy photographer Rachel Hulin made her baby boy Henry the subject of a chest-clutching series of photos entitled, simply, The Flying Series.
“I wanted the flights to feel genuine,” Hulin told Time’s LightBox. “These are places we are really in everyday, it’s not a cut-and-paste job on random interiors and landscapes.”
Though she won’t say how she made little Henry fly, Hulin insists she never throws him. PetaPixel suggests that she may be employing a technique similar to the one used by Pat David in his bouncing baby photo.
Bit of a weird choice of hat, dontcha think?
Elephant in the Room
I do love my other half.
We had a HUGE debate about abortion on the way to mine today (didn’t end badly as such, we just sort of had to agree to disagree), and then at the dinner table my unknowing little sister goes and says “Oliver, if you ever have a son, I bet he’d be gay.”
It was SO funny. Me and Cloudy just burst out in fits of giggles.
Revisited some old Queen albums today. Day at the Races is nothing shorter than absolutely fabulous.
(Source: freddiemercurysluscioustits, via waste-away-with-me)
This evening
Didn’t go massively well. Got stuff done to see the girlfriend, then a couple of hours before I go out to see her she tells me she’s busy. Haven’t really done anything productive since.
I should just get on with it really.
Instead, I think I’ll watch Top Gear. Who needs A levels anyway.
Ego.
I’ve been in Malvern today. Nice place. Lots of hills.
I auditioned at the theatre for a musical theatre project in the summer with a West End Director - don’t know if I’ll get the call back, but when I went out the director was smiling. The West End Director. He seemed happy.
Ego boost.
Then I had a concert. I started my solo (a pretty Beethoven piece called ‘Ich Liebe Dich’) in the WRONG KEY. As in, totally the wrong key. As in, who’s that lad squeaking at the front of the church kinda wrong key.
I stopped, and started afresh and all, but…
Ego stoop.
Great evening though - Spoons for tea, then out for drinks; it was lovely. Major catchup with a guy I haven’t seen in 7 years!
His hair was long.
Observational points go to me I think.
Worried about my friend though (who’s probably reading this)… Midweek pub trip in order!
