and this existance we share here amongst the trees and the ocean and the moss and the animals is so divine, so graceful, yet so restless. we are forever itching to run naked through the fields, to dance to the rhythm of nature's heartbeat and to sprout antlers among our untidy, knotted hair.
they have their televisions and their politics.
we have our branches and leaves.
this is _______________.
this is GEORG HÓLM, motherfucker. and he is classier and suaver than you will ever be.
just look at him. he fucking breathes classiness. he’s the bass player for SIGUR RÓS, and unlike most bass players, the band wouldn’t be the same without him.
sometimes, this guy plays the bass with a drum stick. that’s right, a fucking drum stick. how does that shit even work. i don’t know. the point is that he thought of doing it one day, and it sounded cool, and that just goes to show you that not only is he classier than you, he’s smarter than you too. damn.
guess what? this fucker is also a dad. he has kids. he probably wins the awesomest dad of the year award every year, and holy shit if you picked on one of his kids i would feel so bad for you if he confronted you about it. look at those fucking eyes. did you know his nickname is WHITE FANG? it’s because he can catch trout with his goddamn teeth. holy shit this man was a wolf in another life or something, shit.
you can aspire to be anything in life, an olympic athelete, a groundbreaking scientist, a professor at harvard, an astronaut. me? i dream of one day waking up as this man. no other dream can compete.