“We are very happy to present a virtual conference this year” by Julia in the cave

Sunday, May 3, 2020
10:50pm
5 minutes
From an email

I know this might be weird to tell you this but I don’t want to be at a virtual conference. I don’t want to be seen by strangers I normally wouldn’t have to see. I don’t need to make friends with an online buddy. I have some friends that I want to prioritize. I make great friends in person. Online I wear fake eyelashes when an instagram filter installs them for me perfectly. I don’t have to explain that some people will be wearing wigs. I don’t want to see everyone’s wig.

“FEEL YOUR FACE” By Julia on the living room floor

Thursday March 19, 2020
9:32pm
5 minutes
Burma-Shave
Traditional poem

there are apps that I have chosen to go to sleep at a certain hour now. Today, yesterday, now. How long does someone wait to call it Now in the habitual sense, the sense of saying I Do This Now when it has become something to do

I hate using the word “apps”. I barely like saying cell phone but here we are unavoidable. now. on the moving picture show of their life that is also my life too, now.

Now’s floor is more fun to sit on
more time to experiment with something new, a hat, an eye pencil, a semi supine. Now’s fridge clangs both empty and full. Now’s pantry has possibilities. Open ended.

“I find the result” by Julia in her office

Thursday January 16, 2020
9:30am
5 minutes
From a quote by Mark Twain

The result of staring into the window of other people’s stories is that it’s a window. Not a door. You can look all you want, but there’s a connection that calls you at the bottom of that longing, and looking isn’t enough. We think it’s enough, and sometimes, sure, it is, but when we want to see others and be seen, we don’t mean ‘what they’re doing’ or ‘what they had for brunch’. We want to see the hearts, the human underneath the facade, the spirit underneath the human.
This is because we have gotten good at believing that it’s the quickest way, the easiest way to bridge the gap, cross the ravine, is to log in, put our feet up and watch other people live their lives. We think this because it resembles a bonding, a gathering, but it’s not all the way there. We don’t know what’s real and what isn’t anymore. Or we know, and we ignore it. Or we don’t care, and what is worse, my friends. My ‘friends’, my ‘likes’, my online bubble of bursting potential…
The window is not a door.

“a time lacking in truth and certainty” by Sasha at her desk

Monday July 22, 2019
11:04am
5 minutes
From a quote by Louise Bogan

Drive up the mountain in an SUV and throw a cigarette butt
out the window and laugh at the irony of how things
tend to go Drink an iced coffee and throw the cup
out the window and then take a selfie
in front of the forest fire

hashtag world ending hashtag hot hot heat
hashtag fire hashtag smoke
hashtag do I look beautiful here
Is the light good

Instagram does not measure the rate
of destruction caused when tourists pose
at the site of Chernobyl
exposing butt cheeks and pink lipstick
How far will we fall
How deep will we go

I am not condemning my generation
I am saying that I am afraid
of the passion for followers
gurus of make up tutorials and false eyelashes
the disconnect from the
heartbeat

“It seems to me an awfully silly thing” by Julia at her desk

Tuesday October 17, 2017

8:47pm

5 minutes

The Mystery of the Blue Train Agatha Christie

I go to pick up his phone right, to go through it and shit? See he’s been pissing me off lately, chuckling to himself, constantly being on his stupid Instagram laughing at god knows whose feed. So I’m like, watch me destroy his life with a click and a swipe and delete delete delete. The first thing that pops up is his alarm. Like why is this interesting, I don’t know, but I’m there. I’m in it. I’m detective what’s his nuts. No, fuck Sherlock, I’m freaking Harriet the spy over here. Anyway I’m like, looking through, like when does this idiot need to wake up? 6:35am? Fine. And then an alarm for 7:35am. Okay. And then one for 8:35am. And 9:35am, like buddy, you’re already late what is the point of all these alarms an hour apart and like, 25 to? So I’m not even on his Instagram and I’m just scrolling and he comes out of the washroom like, what are you doing with my phone? And I’m like, these alarms—and he’s like, uhh uhh you weren’t supposed to see those.

“The Movement project” by Sasha in her bed


Thursday July 27, 2017
12:39am
5 minutes
Sophie Spiridonoff’s artist statement

Clara decides to dance every day for one hundred days. She calls it “One Hundred Days of Dancing”. She posts videos of herself on Instagram. At first she isn’t sure why she’s doing it. She gets a phone call from her first follower (Martha), who says, “You need to shave you armpits, Clara.” Martha is Clara’s mother. After seven days, she has three hundred followers. They post words of encouragement and smiley faces and the dancing woman in a red dress emoji. Clara buys a red dress and dances in it and the video is overwhelmingly popular. Clara didn’t start dancing to become popular. She did it to heal a broken heart. Her mutt died and she forgot how to feel joy and then she remembered that dancing used to bring her joy, as a child.

“who’d surprise his roommates” by Julia at Starbucks


Wednesday June 22, 2016 at Starbucks
7:07am
5 minutes
Anthony’s Glass Eye
Billeh Nickerson


Callahan is coming home tonight. He’s been in Europe mastering the art of Instagram and showing off his cool life that his parents are paying for. He started his trip in Spain and then decided he wanted to live in Italy, then changed his mind to Berlin, then eventually just went back to Spain. The only person he told he was coming back was me and he made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone else. “Gonna surprise everybody: The Prodigal Roommate returns! But, I tell him, I can’t pick you up, it’s not enough notice. And he tells me, don’t worry; one of the guys will be there. Except you didn’t tell any of the guys, remember? Oh yeah, he said, no, I know, all good. Bueno! Muy bueno! I casually mention the bus and Callahan “gets another call”.

“he loved it when I forced him into seasonal costumes” by Julia on Katie’s couch in London


Friday December 12, 2014
5:36am
5 minutes
from Minnie Driver’s Instagram feed

Tonight Kip is looking perfect in his elf suit. The ears are just subtle enough and his strong body is showing through the tight striped T. I’m not one to brag, but I’ve outdone myself this time. All the ladies are swooning at this Christmas bachelorette and the feeling in the room is definitely a merry one! Part of the excitement is watching him entice other women, knowing full well I get to take him home directly after so many others have been wanting him.

Last year, a bit different, I made him be the stork at Jenna’s baby shower. He was not happy about it but he was the only one who could capture the essence of one so effortlessly. I never told him he had the easy energy of a bird but he knew he had it in him and he knew he had to share that because it was the right thing to do.

“too damn cool” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Friday November 21, 2014
9:32pm
5 minutes
from an e-mail

Cool is the currency
Cool is liking that pink hat
Or… Is it?
Cool is
Cool is
Cool isn’t Celine Dion, he says
But when I was there
On the other side
The blonde haired dark skinned one
Low slung jeans
And sad eyes
Played My Heart Will Go On
With utter sincerity
Cool isn’t the painting above the toilet
Cool isn’t scrolling through your phone looking at picture of women in lingerie on Instagram
Cool is a judgement call
Cool is traded
Cool is coded
Cool is switched
Cool is that tree
Trees are cool
Effortless
Attachement (Roots)
Unattachment (Leaves)

“Questions about living” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Thursday September 18, 2014
11:15am
5 minutes
a Word document

Sometimes I have pretty serious questions about living. Often, they concern Instagram. Okay. I apologize in advance if this turns “rant-y” cuz that’s not usually my style but sometimes girl’s gotta preach… AMIRIGHT?

Okay. So. I’m considering taking a ‘Gram break. (That sounds like a drug break. No way that’s happening! Haha! Just kidding! I’ve been clean since May, bitches!) I’m sick and Rick (I don’t know what that means but it’s strangely humorous to me) and tired of all you fakers posting picture of your fucking SALAD. Like, I know you be eating all the Smartfood! And your slices of cucumber?! And your half an orange?!!! LIKE, REALLY?!? And then, as if that fruit and vegetable isn’t annoying enough, what you write underneath really puts me over the GD edge. “#healthy” “#myskinisglowing” “#LIVECLEAN” GAG ME. GAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGG ME.

Not to be like, negative, cuz that’s not what this Tumblr is about, yo. Also, not to be gangsta, but that’s just, like, how this is coming out today. Funny, right? I don’t want my words to be empty so I’m gonna take a break from it. From the scrolling and the trolling (basically I’m Shakespeare) and the, like, liking shit I actually think is dumb! I’m gonna stop getting stuck in a vortex of all the photos by ex-boyfriends step-sister liked! I can’t get that time back, bitches!

“primarily unoaked” by Julia on her couch


Thursday January 16, 2014
2:05am
5 minutes
the drinks card at FRESH

She was sitting down, the only other person in the restaurant aside from the server. Rumour has it the chefs step out of the building every night after 9:25pm for their secret alley way meeting. Others say they’re just out there “having a smoke”. She was sniffing the cork of her wine bottle. She told the young girl with the side pony tail that she was waiting for someone and didn’t want to look like she cared. The girl sold her the bottle assuming her guest would soon arrive but after almost 62 minutes everyone in the place, and again it was just the two of them, had conceded that this “guest” was surely no longer coming at this point. The bottle was not as depleted as either of them thought it would be by this time, but neither one wanted to address it. The girl behind the counter was taking Instagram photos of stacked plates and sugar packets and nobody seemed to mind that either.