watched as an immersive experience. sitting on a couch that’s never been washed and is only held together by plastic ribbons, in a living room with tobacco and wine stains all over the floor and three kinds of mold in the walls, next to my alcoholic stoner friends, in a house that became uninhabitably cold in autumn, while it was raining outside.

they filmed this forty years ago and robinson experienced it sixty years ago and it won’t ever lose its grasp on me

homoerotically charged cadillac scene, where were you going

i’m like 99% sure tjure and snorre were my first ship ever. history was being made here whether i like it or not

dead wife trope except she lives on a beautiful farm on the countryside with all of her animal friends