I want to be staring at pictures like this all day and re-running every second of the time I was in his presence. Not doing fucking work or speaking to some fucking stranger or doing anything else that is entirely pointless.
I suppose I can comprimise. I've already decided that as one of my final piece ideas in Art I'm going to create a piece that reflects the change and contiunity of Thom Yorke from 1985 - 2011, all in the style of Stanley Donwood. I was even going to write to him, I'm sure Stan would reply, he's such a lovely chap.
That just reminds me that I've got an English lit past paper to do for tomorrow. Fuck my life. I'm not doing anything. I'm just going to stare at him forever and put myself in the shoes of Rachel Owen. I don't suffer from erotomania, at all.
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