I’ve only had something close to a panic attack 3 times.(thankfully) 
Once in a Bed, Bath & Beyond, once in an Ikea & once in the mountains of Utah when I was alone in all that nature.

I’ve only had something close to a panic attack 3 times.(thankfully) 

Once in a Bed, Bath & Beyond, once in an Ikea & once in the mountains of Utah when I was alone in all that nature.


ANDY WARHOLSkulls, 1976four screenprints in color






























The plants showed me my death. In fact I was more than just shown. I felt it.  I had rapidly depleting strength and the sensation of being pulled away from myself.  At first my mind refused to play along. “This can’t be…it’s not really that” and other such thoughts hung about for a bit before it settled upon me that what was happening wasn’t like death or similar to it—it WAS death. As my life flashed before me I had no choice but to see it was no big deal if i was gone forever. My nice little life was a silly music video at best. One that was only released to a few people. (almost none). My life was a blip—a splash against the screen. A grain of sand. Thank you to the plants.
ANDY WARHOL
Skulls, 1976
four screenprints in color

The plants showed me my death. In fact I was more than just shown. I felt it. I had rapidly depleting strength and the sensation of being pulled away from myself. At first my mind refused to play along. “This can’t be…it’s not really that” and other such thoughts hung about for a bit before it settled upon me that what was happening wasn’t like death or similar to it—it WAS death. As my life flashed before me I had no choice but to see it was no big deal if i was gone forever. My nice little life was a silly music video at best. One that was only released to a few people. (almost none). My life was a blip—a splash against the screen. A grain of sand.

Thank you to the plants.

(via fukozawa)

So much negativity is coming up to the surface. These dark thoughts and feelings want to be known.  I try to sit with them but it’s difficult not to be shocked by the depths of my anger—by the seemingly fundamental distrust towards myself and humanity. There’s the sense of failure—of doubt creeping in, telling me, see, see—this is who you are:  a mean, hateful, scared person.  But these feelings are not me, for I’m able to observe them.  I can listen to the whiny, pissed off thoughts before letting them go because I am not those thoughts, even when it seems as though they’re coming from a bottomless pit deep inside.  The me that’s left is luminous love. That which was there at the start, and that which will be there at the end. 

So much negativity is coming up to the surface. These dark thoughts and feelings want to be known.  I try to sit with them but it’s difficult not to be shocked by the depths of my anger—by the seemingly fundamental distrust towards myself and humanity. There’s the sense of failure—of doubt creeping in, telling me, see, see—this is who you are:  a mean, hateful, scared person.  But these feelings are not me, for I’m able to observe them.  I can listen to the whiny, pissed off thoughts before letting them go because I am not those thoughts, even when it seems as though they’re coming from a bottomless pit deep inside.  The me that’s left is luminous love. That which was there at the start, and that which will be there at the end. 

bonjourtableau:
I saw my doppelgänger last week outside of the Soho Souen. She was turning the corner onto 6th Avenue and talking excitedly on the phone. Several canvas shopping bags were laced around her arms, one with daisies sticking out of it. She was thinner with a more angular face that made her seem older but there was no mistaking that she was me, pale skin, blue eyes, freckles and all…hurrying back home to prepare a dinner party for friends.
After the initial surprise a wave of joy passed over me, for it was clear that she was happy.  She was enjoying her life and the city and the magic hour between day and night, when the sky glowed as though lit from within. I leaned back and took a picture with my eyes.  Whatever twists and turns I’d taken in this parallel reality had brought me here, to 6th Avenue, to a wrinkle in time and the realization that feeling good wasn’t a momentary glitch about to correct itself at any second but something closer to destiny.

bonjourtableau:

I saw my doppelgänger last week outside of the Soho Souen. She was turning the corner onto 6th Avenue and talking excitedly on the phone. Several canvas shopping bags were laced around her arms, one with daisies sticking out of it. She was thinner with a more angular face that made her seem older but there was no mistaking that she was me, pale skin, blue eyes, freckles and all…hurrying back home to prepare a dinner party for friends.

After the initial surprise a wave of joy passed over me, for it was clear that she was happy.  She was enjoying her life and the city and the magic hour between day and night, when the sky glowed as though lit from within. I leaned back and took a picture with my eyes.  Whatever twists and turns I’d taken in this parallel reality had brought me here, to 6th Avenue, to a wrinkle in time and the realization that feeling good wasn’t a momentary glitch about to correct itself at any second but something closer to destiny.

(via fukozawa)