Surf - Forum

def in manyly

"Who’s joe?" a distant voice asks. Instantly everyone nearby hears the sound of 1,000s of bricks rapidly shuffling towards his location. The earth itself seemed to cry out in agony, until finally the ground itself split open and a horrific creature crawled from the ground, covered in mucus and tar. ”Joe Momma…” the creature whispered. The man cried out in pain as he disintegrated into dust, and the whole world fell silent in fear. "I did a little trolling." the wretched creature remarked before burrowing back into the earth. "Who’s joe?" a distant voice asks. Instantly everyone nearby hears the sound of 1,000s of bricks rapidly shuffling towards his location. The earth itself seemed to cry out in agony, until finally the ground itself split open and a horrific creature crawled from the ground, covered in mucus and tar. ”Joe Momma…” the creature whispered. The man cried out in pain as he disintegrated into dust, and the whole world fell silent in fear. "I did a little trolling." the wretched creature remarked before burrowing back into the earth. "Who’s joe?" a distant voice asks. Instantly everyone nearby hears the sound of 1,000s of bricks rapidly shuffling towards his location. The earth itself seemed to cry out in agony, until finally the ground itself split open and a horrific creature crawled from the ground, covered in mucus and tar. ”Joe Momma…” the creature whispered. The man cried out in pain as he disintegrated into dust, and the whole world fell silent in fear. "I did a little trolling." the wretched creature remarked before burrowing back into the earth. "Who’s joe?" a distant voice asks. Instantly everyone nearby hears the sound of 1,000s of bricks rapidly shuffling towards his location. The earth itself seemed to cry out in agony, until finally the ground itself split open and a horrific creature crawled from the ground, covered in mucus and tar. ”Joe Momma…” the creature whispered. The man cried out in pain as he disintegrated into dust, and the whole world fell silent in fear. "I did a little trolling." the wretched creature remarked before burrowing back into the earth.

early post for 2025

ffsfdsfds

Discovering the art of **Hiroshi Nagai** genuinely shifted something in me. His dreamy, pastel-drenched depictions of summer—sleek pools, calm seas, sun-bleached buildings—felt like they came straight from the world I always wanted to live in. There’s this stillness in his work that almost dares you to slow down and savor the moment. Every time I see one of his paintings, I don’t just see a beach—I *feel* the salt air, the distant hum of a radio playing city pop, and the gentle pull of a tide that says, "come surf." His aesthetic made the ocean feel closer, more personal, more like home. It’s not just about surfing, it’s about *how* I surf now. Nagai’s artwork reminded me that the joy isn’t just in catching waves—it’s in the early-morning light hitting the water, the sound of your board skimming across the surface, the quiet after you paddle out. His clean lines and peaceful compositions nudged me to romanticize those little in-between moments I used to ignore. Surfing became less about adrenaline and more about *presence*. Thanks to his influence, I don’t just go to the beach—I *go into a painting*, every time.