Nuevo Laredo, Mexico - Ruben Flores, 64, sits inside his one-room office. He types letters for people who can’t write. He opened his stall in 1964, just across from the city’s municipal building. For nearly 50 years he’s helped people with everything from taxes to government forms, but his favorite letters to write are love letters. To him the border has changed a lot over time and today he says it makes it harder for people to get visas and for tourists to enter his city.
Throughout the years he’s seen a lot of life pass by and has many memories. One of his fondest — the night he and his friends went to see the Beatles in ‘A Hard Days Night.’ “I remember the day like it was yesterday,” said Flores, with a wide grin.
And yes, he really said that, believe me I didn’t prompt the pun. Half his answers were in Beatles lyrics.
Like a sad and broken-hearted lover who can’t get over an ex, Aaron Paul adores Breaking Bad, the television show that made him and left him, and is always on his mind. “I had an incredible experience, why wouldn’t I want that again?” Big bright blue eyes sparkle as he smiles, thinking of times past, his final days with his sweetheart of seven years. “I kept walking around, all day long, going, ‘This is awful. This is f****** terrible.’ I was super-depressed, then we hugged, we cried, we got matching tattoos.” (X)
This 1908 image of women smoking and drinking was intended to be a horrifying glimpse of a post-suffrage future. Now it just looks like an awesome bar.
art students before a final is due
“Mother,” I slowly repeated in Korean. “I am not a boy. I am a girl. I am transgender.” My face reddened, and tears blurred my vision. I braced myself for her rejection and the end to a relationship that had only begun.
Silence again filled the room. I searched my mother’s eyes for any signs of shock, disgust or sadness. But a serene expression lined her face as she sat with ease on the couch. I started to worry that my words had been lost in translation. Then my mother began to speak.
“Mommy knew,” she said calmly through my friend, who looked just as dumbfounded as I was by her response. “I was waiting for you to tell me.”
“Birth dream,” my mother replied. In Korea some pregnant women still believe that dreams offer a hint about the gender of their unborn child. “I had dreams for each of your siblings, but I had no dream for you. Your gender was always a mystery to me.”
I wanted to reply but didn’t know where to begin. My mother instead continued to speak for both of us. “Hyun-gi,” she said, stroking my head. “You are beautiful and precious. I thought I gave birth to a son, but it is OK. I have a daughter instead.”
"you make my heart beat in iambic pentameter."
no you don’t understand shakespeare literally writes to the beat of your heart
- that’s why shakespearean actors will sometimes pound their chests in time to the words during readings
- that’s why you use fluctuations in the rhythm to track your character’s emotional state - any irregularities in the scansion are like the character’s heart stuttering or jumping or skipping a beat
- that’s why when characters share the rhythm - switching off in the middle of a foot - those characters inevitably have an extraordinarily intimate connection
shakespeare fucking writes viscerally, he is literally in your body, and that, my friend, that is why the best shakespearean actors don’t posture and emote
you have to be fucking alive and passionate and electric - it can’t be intellectual, in the end, it has to be about connection and the sweating, cheering, jeering, bleeding masses you’re performing to, because make no mistake, shakespeare may go to lofty heights, but he only works if you’re just as grounded in the earth. he has to be in your body. he has to be in your body.
holy motherfucking shit i love shakespeare so much, get him in your bones, breathe him in, stomp and rage and pine, dadum dadum dadum dadum dadum, it is literally to the beat of your heart
I loved that Grantaire was on his knees? and I kinda wanted to see his face, so I drew this out.
Idk, I always feel like there’s like this huge painful knot in R’s chest and he drinks away the pain, but when his wine is taken away, it all comes back up to the surface.