There’s a violent lot of solid beauty in the little pools of putrid pinks and purples and reds. It’s like sitting in a heavy wake of total failure. Worst-case scenarios and late-night worries fully confirmed. Seeing the worst of something is a full sort of liberation. Accepting it as that- an even fuller one maybe. Relishing in the disgusting, grime-filled, murky occasional shit-swaths of living…that’s the ultimate cool. And maybe cool is really just hitting an age where you become best friends with your demons and monsters. When you invite them to come down off your back and walk with you hand-in-hand off into becoming something new. When you can swim in your own filth and whistle in the waste, you’re good-to-go. Maybe if we could all just find the right filth that coats us prettily everything would be a little easier. And we could enjoy the swim instead of wonder if we're drowning. [Ryan Nimmo]
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