Technology has become junk to me, but as such I feel a great deal of empathy for leftover, abandoned electronic junk. Such detritus becomes a mirror of ourselves—circuits, cables, and hard drives mimic our tissues, nervous systems, brains, etc.—but above all, these technologies die, just as we do. In its obsolescence, technology becomes utterly human.
—Daniel Canogar, BOMB 2011
(Source: bombmagazine)
Imogen offered to put the game back into her purse for safe-keeping with an open hand, and Jake obliged. She took her place at his side once again, her arm linked with his. “It’s not a kitten, of course, but I was hoping you’d like it anyway.” She glanced at her watch for a moment, and reached up to straighten his tie with a giggle. “So, explain to me our mystical mode of transportation, sweet prince. Land, sea, air, car, limousine, dirtbike, white horse, rocketship…” She joked, and Jake laughed, taking the lead. “How about we take my car? I know it’s nothing compared to a white horse,” he chuckled, “But it’s something. I’m pretty sure that you don’t want to walk in those boots anyway.”
Imogen allowed Jake to lead her along, and she swung her bag by her side, half-skipping her way towards the drive. Jake seemed amused by her suggestions, in the least. “How about we take my car? I know it’s nothing compared to a white horse, but it’s something.” Imogen beamed, showing off her teeth, but trying not to talk too much. If anything, it was becoming an insecurity; she talked too much. Jake laughed lightly. “I’m pretty sure that you don’t want to walk in those boots anyway.” Imogen clicked her tongue as she looked down at her boots, homouring him a little. She nodded and followed to the car, giving his cheek a quick kiss before bouncing herself into the passenger’s seat. She tapped her fingers as she waited for him to start the car, humming to herself again, and instantly proceeded to fiddle with the radio. She couldn’t ever listen to the radio on her own, not finding much she liked, so she ended up putting it on the same station it was on originally. Staring out her window, she let loose a happy sigh. “I’m so very, very happy we’re going out. I feel like I haven’t seen the outside world—or you—in ages…” She stopped herself again, her fear of rambling being drowned out by the cadence of drum beats and repetitive electric guitar.
(Source: imogenfabulous, via jakefixitmartins)
untitled by masticame la mirada on Flickr.
(via theunitedteaaparty-deactivated20)
Imogen gently pulled his arm to wrap around her shoulders, and Jake couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “That sounds ever-so-lovely. I haven’t been out in ages. This is going to be fabulous.” Before Jake could respond, she halted her stride abruptly, slapping her forehead. “Oh! I almost forgot…” She started, stepping away from his side to dig through her purse. “Aha! I got you a present! Leo advised me to get you this after you let him stay with you. He told me Eli had it and you were super jealous. According to him, anyway. He’s such a gossip,” she giggled as she handed him the present, a smile still clinging to her lips. Jake raised his eyebrows at her, trying to figure out what Eli had that Jake didn’t, and how Imogen would know what that was. He set the thought aside, and he grinned back at her. He glanced over the gift in his hand that was delicately wrapped in newsprint, topped with a bow. Jake chuckled to himself, and carefully unwrapped his gift, trying not to ruin its perfection too much. He peeled back a corner of the paper, and only caught a glimpse of the cover of the video game before he knew that it was a copy of God of War. “Wow, thanks, Immy,” he smiled, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to her lips. “You’re the best.”
Imogen clapped her hands excitedly as Jake smiled when he unwrapped the game. She hadn’t been one hundred percent positive if that was what he would want, but she had wanted to make a nice gesture. “You’re the best,” he said, and she held out her hand as an offer to keep the game safe in her purse. She linked her arm with his yet again and shrugged. “It’s not a kitten, of course, but I was hoping you would like it anyway.” She glanced around before quickly checking her watch for the time. Smiling, she reached up to playfully straighten Jake’s tie. “So, explain to me our mystical mode of transportation, sweet prince. Land, sea, air, car, limousine, dirtbike, white horse, rocketship…” She trailed off, realizing she needed to stop talking so much.
(Source: imogenfabulous, via jakefixitmartins)
(Source: Flickr / kimbordons, via teen-s0ul-deactivated20111220-d)
10/28/11 (by laineylamonto)
(via far0re)
