about three months ago, i found myself laying on a bed in a sauna-like hotel room. there were three other people of the room, and none of them wanted to wake up to a naked mark. i threw the off of me, but it didn't seem to do anything. tossing and turning only made beads of sweat arise on my brow, and i wasn't drunk enough to think about passing out. it was painful.

so, i got out of bed, walked into the bathroom, and, for the first time in my life, ran equal amounts of hot and cold water in a shower. i stepped in and was surprised at how comfortable i was.

throwing on only a pair of boxers, i sat on a windowsill and attentively listened to the street three stories below me. silence. nothing. the only thing i could hear was the crackling burn of thin paper every time i took a drag of the cigarette perched on my lips.


i had never been so comfortable in my life.

no matter what anyone tells you...






there's no place in the world more beautiful than venice.


stop breathing, lose a limb , cut out my heart, pollute my lung, drive my head directly into a brick wall. i'd give it all for one last smell of saltwater across a canal, one last sunset between sand-colored buildings, one last blinding streak of light as it glistens off that green water, one last bead of sweat swiped on my wrist as i desperately listen for something, anything, to pinch me and wake me from those sublime dreams on that windowsill.

venice. i'd die in venice.

tight with the ivy ankles.

air force one japan. almost ended up spending money on shipping for these. i ended up finding them at a finish line in salem, new hampshire. i was baffled. still, they're absolutely fresh.

stayin' pasty in the summer. cyea.

in and out

so july came and went. i can't believe summer is almost over. but, since it started. i moved, got a (terrible) new job (that i'm embarrassed to talk about), ruined my computer, (tried to) start writing again, sweated, cooked breakfast, turned twenty-two, and tried to adjust to a new lifestyle.

i need some sanity. honestly.

i met a bunch of people. they're all pretty good. i'm not sure if they actually consider me a friend yet, but they all seem nice. you'll see a few of them down there.

i'd promise you more posts, but we all know how that ends up working out. so, here's a few pictures. best i can do for you.

bunker avenue.

nice visit from lou in june. he lives for 4 a.m. smores.

good ideas.

merrydeath the monkey, formerly of the crouse family.

home.

we on award tour...

i know i haven't been around much, but i have 93,000 excuses. the main one being that i'm in the process of moving. tomorrow, actually. much has been going on, and i plan on posting about all the happening in the coming week. don't worry; i promise pictures from europe real soon, too.

i do want to take this time (because i might never remember to do it otherwise) to show you The Award Tour crew out of Jersey. the dude LochNess comes up with the designs himself, draws inspiration from 90s comics and Pogs (fucking POGS). the site is kind of new, i think, but the posts are pretty interesting, and the line is sweet. come'on-- a clothing line named after ATCQ? you can't go wrong with that. i'm plain thrilled to see what else they're gonna come up with, but for the time being, i'm really feeling the fuck out of this tee.

you best believe i'm buying it the minute it drops. but stop by, show some love. i'm gonna link them permanently in the sidebar right now.

and on the other thing, i'll miss you new york city. a 'lil.

oh, boysie.

so, i'm trying to update my pictures to flickr. but, this fool left his laptop in the heathrow airport. i'm going to try to upload the pics to my flickr, but i dont know how well that'll work. maybe tomorrow?

yeah?!
yeah?!

trust me, there's ALOT you need to hear. and you will before tomorrow.

<3

caio/bonjour/'ello.

this is jeff emerging after a seventeen-minute long excretion. his reading material: midsummer’s night dream. i don’t believe this is what shakesphere intended.

this is me, finishing a research presentation i have to do on pompeii. i cannot determine what my mouth is doing.
this is my belly, as it is being itched.

we current sit in a hotel in manchester, new hampshire, our home away from home-home. tomorrow, we begin traveling across time zones foreign to both of us. right now, we wait. we wait so that when we arrive, we're awake.

ilaria will be accompanying us, as well as eight other people that might find their way onto this domain.

tomorrow, we begin to document the reason why this was created.

i can’t promise daily updates, but i can promise as many as possible. you all should check back as much and possible.

because this is sure to get interesting.

in the mean time, peep the flickr for a bunch of stuff that should have found its way up earlier, but didn't in preparation for tomorrow.

but it's going to get interesting.

a quick ride

he doesn't smile; he can't. but if he could, he would have. the best i could muster from him is the occasional smirk. it didn't leave his face, even while the subaru slipped out of gear, or while he hugged corners i wouldn't think of accelerating on.

it didn't matter. he spoke quick, without hesitation, and i whipped my head from side to side. it was tough to keep up with him. former employers. businesses that friends had owned. bars he hustled at.

it didn't matter. i occasionally shook my head and was consistently left speechless as the sun set. we didn't get out of the car when he spoke of the narrow streets he rode his bike down, and rocks he and his fiance would sit on and be quiet together.

several times, he admitted he believed in ghosts.

he lifted one finger off the steering wheel to point at the police station where he was born. he tells me this is the place where he'll first take his daughter when she's old enough to understand its significance.









he told me, "one day, i'll tell my daughter everything."

i told him, "maybe we could give you something else to tell her."

manchester explorations

it's going to be a terribly long week. i mean, it's already been a terribly long night, but since i don't think i'll be around too much, i figured i might as well make a post whilst i still have some energy.

this pictures are quite old, and are from two separate trips i took to manchester; one with laura, one with ben. on one i found a bunch of neat tags in an alley (i'll always love manchester for it's alley graffiti. it's such a nice juxtaposition to what you see in new york), and on the other the graffed-up remains of a blacksmith shop that seemed to implode due to an electical fire. the ashes smelt fresh. it was intense.

she's very attractive, they tell me.

don't worry. he didn't do it.

(i don't know why this makes me so happy.)

so as botany kicks me in the ass, enjoy your next few days. i plan on taking a bunch more lovely pictures before i go home (friday night is the annual writer's party as the crouse residence. sure to be a night of great moments), a few when i'm home, and then... well, i'm not going to tell you where until i actually leave. but in 13 days i begin the best three weeks of my life, and i plan on documenting every day of them.

sleep is for the weak, they say.