ilya

In short...I like listening to tragic music while melodramatically smoking a cigarette and pretending to be in a Truffaut film. I like playing the piano, particularly anything that lends itself to me looking sensitive and important. I play the happy shit too, but take great care to ensure that I wear an agonized expression on my face throughout the entire ordeal. I take no uncertain amount of pleasure in referring to myself as European. I struggle to write postmodern existential prose about how utterly doomed and tragic existence is (but not actually write it, mind you - as a thoroughbred artist, I despise readymade art...the banal result of vulgar effort). I like that I just made an obscure reference. I like being pretentious as fuck. I find coloring hair to be rather stimulating. This tends to work to my advantage as it happens to be my job.I also enjoy the following things to varying degrees and in differing doses. Tennis. Cats. Sushi. People with a tendency to use terms such as "chunky differences" (you know who you are. Kerry.). More cats. Including hairless cats. Especially hairless cats. Flat-irons. Calling people out on misuse of the word "ironic." Books that have something to say or say absolutely nothing remarkably well. French nihilism. German postmodernism. German anything. Well, almost anything. Skinny jeans. Black and white album covers. Calling things banal. Cabernet. Cabaret. Existentialism. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Never enough of that.