Lupita Nyong’o discusses beauty at the Essence Magazing Black Women In Hollywood Awards.
Last night was the first time in a long time that I’ve remembered a dream, or even had a dream, as far as I know.
It was about the apocalypse, or, the end of the world.
The leaders of the world had decided everything was over, and within months of this news, people had pretty much wiped themselves-out because they knew the end of the world was coming. The end of the world didn’t end them, they ended themselves.
However, I didn’t believe it was the end of the world. I had decided that as long as we had flour to make bread, fuel for cars, and a method for making fire, there’s no reason why I, and my family, couldn’t still exist.
So, for a year or two, the world was ours. We saw beautiful waterfalls in tropical jungles, we slept in the desert and climbed the mountains of Japan - just because we could. I had learned to fly a plane, command a tank and ride a motorcycle, so we had the ability to go wherever we wanted.
Slowly communications ceased to work - the internet had been stable for a good few years - servers and computers simply ticking over until they burnt-out. All the power stations had been left as they were, unattended but functional.
Then day-by-day, the automated sources of information and power slowly dropped-out, until we were left feeling very alone.
After a while, we would occasionally happen upon another human who had decided that the world wasn’t over, and instead of being hostile (as expected in a movie adaptation of my dream) they were friendly, and calm, and we shared what knowledge we had with one another.
Then after a decade or so, the world began to perish - the prophesy had become reality - but it was a long, long time after the majority of the human population had given up on living.
We lay on the ground and slept until the decaying plant life swallowed us up, descending in to the centre of the earth - for it was soon to implode.
It was a very horrible, yet liberating dream.
Oh ye gods of charity shop wall art, I thank thee for these precious gifts thy have bestowed upon me this dreary, Mancunian Thursday. A 1960s painted-brass tray from California, and a 1977 Elton John mirror.
Terrifying children’s records
Love the “Amen!” One near the end!
I’m having a bad time ATM, so I just started watching the Raccoons season 1, and it has THE BEST SONG EVER at the end. I loved the Raccoons as a kid. So I’ve drawn myself as one. One day I’ll actually get time to paint my pictures!
Yuna has quiet a unique park routine, part of which involves walking backwards towards the duck pond
It was only last night that @helenmakes was telling me about her awesome art project, then today on page two of the paper - there she is! ^_^