Grand Rapids in Five Songs
Some people love it. Others feel like Grand Rapids is an inescapable vortex of Dutch bingo. Remi Wolf just helps with some comedic relief.
Some people love it. Others feel like Grand Rapids is an inescapable vortex of Dutch bingo. Remi Wolf just helps with some comedic relief.
I can see her potted plants, and I wonder how they survive since she’s never there to water them.
Viewers are treated to close-ups of dripping jam & sizzling onions, as well as an interlude in which the two protagonists play a comical game of badminton.
It was all crisp blue water and green cliffsides, purple oysters clinging to midnight rocks.
We arrived on a warm evening and were greeted by an orange sky, salty air, and cobbled streets.
As the ghostly songstress resumes her song, you begin to hear that same voice that has been singing as part of the background noise
Life there doesn’t confuse me, but it’s no longer what I’m accustomed to. I’ve become a real city slicker.
Two monuments then, intertwined: one to wonders and another to horrors.
I spend eons meticulously rotating the rack and considering which postcard could be catered to each of my friends.
There’s always someone to wave to.
You reached your hand out of the ocean of people, standing stock-still in the middle of an intersection while the masses swarmed around you, and I took it.