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seven/nine lives

Here's a toast to the living on the blonde side. Documenting the mild narcissism and nighttime wisdom of a little wise guy living on nine lives. Selected essays and fiction. 

Timea is a fiction writer, essayist, and social researcher. She is a doctoral candidate at the University of Oxford.

The Divine Feminine

The Divine Feminine

There's something about May that brings out a pink-lipped softness in me. A need to talk a little slower, a little quieter, a little like a new-age Daisy Buchanan. And that's peculiar in a thousand prismed ways: I'm a barker and a biter; a scrapper and a fighter. I smoke too many cigarettes and sometimes have the heaviest whisky breath in a bar. But when spring starts turning into a new kind of madness, I turn the opposite way. That heavy, grey cloud of sadness I so problematically associate with winter moves into heavy and hot summer rain. (When it rains, it pours.) Before you know it, it's breeding season: baby lambs and fuckboys swarm, and from my little place in the universe I can watch them—enjoying the new season's sun beating down on their young faces. (I don't eat lamb, but I do eat fuckboy.)

But, messy thoughts aside, this is a month for curating. If anything, May moving into June is a glorious time for unearthing new music. It's around this time, every year, when I move through Spotify like a shark hunting down, with scent and eye, the perfect summer tunes (old and new). And so far, I've got a few, and so far, I'd like to share some of them with you. From this end of the internet to yours, goodnight and good morning.

Rolling in Rivers

Rolling in Rivers

Something From India

Something From India