today I saw a preteen girl pick up Mean Girls at Target and ask her friend what it was. She didn’t even know. She said it sounded dumb. The people are forgetting. The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it.
Having a semi-serious fb messenger convo with that dude earlier this evening and I referred to “mind gnomes.”
What are mind gnomes, you ask? Well, had you asked me that 3 hours ago my response would have been “fuck if I know.” But now, I’m claiming it to be anxiety I guess.
So I’m speculating that my mind is a garden full of sunshine and flowers and there are gnomes that every once in a while step on the blossoming flowers of my mind to point their fingers and demand answers to questions I do not currently want to ask.
What the hell, man? Things were going well-ish.
Then fucking mind gnomes happened.
GET TO KNOW: CLARK KENT [SUPERMAN] ↳ “A good Superman story fills you with awe. It’s the mythology of a sun god who wished he was a man because he saw something so great in us. It’s the story of a hero who could move whole worlds and see through stars and hear a whisper on the other side of the planet… who fell in love with a storyteller.”