the final stretch of this movie convinced me there should be a first person shooter game but instead of a gun, it’s a tennis racket and instead of bullets, it’s tennis balls.
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Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2009
The sun lies dormant on the precipice of the world, hanging either by a thread or by a moment—whichever is thinner. My eyes are unbroken upon it, and despite all conventional wisdom, I can’t look away. I am drawn to it.
Near me, a flower wilts unceremoniously. No amount of sunlight will save it; perhaps a single drop of water could provide enough sustenance to prolong its life even for a moment, but that’s of no concern to me anymore.…
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