MY BROTHER JUST WALKED INTO MY ROOM AND HE HAD A LIGHT BULB IN HIS MOUTH AND I WAS LIKE “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING” AND HE GOES “I WAS HAVING A LIGHT SNACK” AND LEAVES I’M DONE
MY DAD JUST CAME IN WITH A LIGHT BULB TOO AND MY BROTHER SHOUTS “I ALREADY DID THAT JOKE” AND NOW MY DAD IS ANGRY AT MY BROTHER WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY FAMILY
"This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety. Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals—sounds that say listen to this, it is important."
Words, man. Words.
"We have forgotten what rocks, plants, and animals still know. We have forgotten how to be"
Eckhart Tolle (via wanduring)