There is rain outside, and although I don’t see it, I know that it is there. I’m not outside but memory serves as a reminder of just how cold the wet wind is. I step outside briefly to make sure it hasn’t changed; it is important to me that these words ring true.

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(Source: allwehaveistonight.com)

As some of you may know, I did some paintings shortly after the release of Tyler Lyle’s album “The Golden Age And The Silver Girl” (which you can still find at www.tylerlyle.bandcamp.com) — By far my favourite album of 2011.

Some of you have asked me for these particular paintings (if you’re out of the loop they can be found here.) But I was unable to present them, due to them being inside of my notebook….until now.

To kind of promote the Kickstarter page Tyler has started to fund the Vinyl pressing of his (incredible) album, I am giving away 8x10 versions of the paintings as an initiative to anyone who backs this project.

All you have to do is visit the kickstarter page, click “back this project” and pledge some money. Then shoot me an email at calebfeulner@gmail.com with your Name (the one you used to sign up for Kickstarter with, so I can verify you are a backer) an address where you would like your painting to be sent, and if you have a specific painting you would like, include that too. (There are many different variations, no two paintings are the same.)

Even if you can’t pledge any money, please help a brother out and reblog this for me. (or post it to any of your other social networking outlets, for that matter.)

Thank you,
Caleb // www.allwehaveistonight.com

Someone who loves me should buy me this.

http://hitrecord.org/store/rec_collection.html

implodeexplode:

In English, we were assigned This I Believe essays. It was incredibly easy for me; I’ve written one before. I’m pretty damn good at personal narratives because I’ve been journaling all of my life. And let’s face it: at this age, we’re all consumed by ourselves. And that’s not a bad thing at all….

(Source: prologueepilogue)

Today I wake up around nine and the room is spinning somewhat out of control. I roll over, falling asleep just before I think I might throw up. Somewhere between ten and twelve-thirty i wake myself to notice the clock at least twice. By two in the afternoon I am engulfed in a migraine that that has my heart pounding, and as i start to sweat, my head feels like it could explode at any moment. I wake up anyways. The twelve hours i have slept felt like five. I throw a pot pie in the microwave, pour myself some juice, and hit the head before the timer is done. The excessive beeping of the microwave makes me want to protest eating altogether, but I decide that even though I am not hungry I should probably eat anyway. I finish my apple juice. It tastes delicious, but as I go to get more I notice the empty carton on the floor beside of the trashcan. I am pissed. I want more juice. I want more juice. I. Want. More. Juice. I remember that yesterday’s trip to the library granted me two books. I pick one off the dining room table, it’s “Shoplifting From American Apparel” by Tao Lin. I am surprised by how small the book is. I start to read, and the lack of punctuation in the dialogue frustrates me. I understand why it was written that way because it is exact dialogue, but it makes me angry. I want to stop reading this book. It is exceedingly uninteresting. I got it for a break from all of the poetry and philosophy I have been reading. I think to myself “fuck modern writers.” and finish the book hastily. I immediately regretted an unrelated comment I made the previous day. I decided I would leave my friend’s business card that I had been using as a bookmark, in the book. I start to put away the dishes that my aunt washed the night before. The noise the silverware made, the glass plates when I picked them up, they all sound like earthquakes and make me want to find somewhere dark, cold, and quiet. I begin to realize I am irritated by everything around me. I blame it on the migraine. I write about it on tumblr before I decide to go back to sleep.