January 2010
and i asked myself about the present: how wide it...
(via werboxingthestars:theredpiano)
(via 1970fur:
“You can grow to love moving … You can also grow to love standing still. … The photograph of a man falling from the sky is the same photograph of the same man flying. … What we keep holy are engines and afternoon drives. What we believe in is not so different from a journey. … To give up is ever to say you were always defeated. … I would say I’ve been down this road, and it looks...
“You’re sad because you’re sad.
It’s psychic. It’s the...”
– A Sad Child, Margaret Atwood (via expose)
“But look I feel like I am losing the point here, which is that the things that...”
– from What forever means when you really mean it by Zach VandeZande
Training
(via werboxingthestars:bunnymitford:
I’m thinking of living forever. I think that way I might finally get my gig straight and solve the crosswords. I’m considering outlasting everyone although I know I’d have a hard time explaining not having read Ulysses past the first chapter. I don’t care if death smells like nutmeg. I don’t buy the plotline on eternal rest. By staying alive someday I might...
2 of Swords by Kate Greenstreet
(via 1970fur:
There’s always that moment with people, right? You look back… you can’t believe how they just don’t love you. And how, in the minute before that, you didn’t know. There was a place, near water. The people had come from somewhere else, and settled. How we came to exist. How we came to be here, everywhere at once. How could I say nothing? Well, it’s a long walk ahead. For a long...
The Astronomer and the Poet by Jessica Piazza
(via ahuntersheart:
1. Why I stargaze
We share ninety-eight percent of our genetic code with rats. Over half with grain. The stars, then, must contain us somehow in their burning.
Something must contain this burning. Uptown, our physics building is sequestered in a bubble of certainty. And Harlem explodes around it.
We gaze because we’re so small, despite our need for choosing. We look...
Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale by Dan...
(via smut-to-go:whitepeacocks:
Measure the walls. Count the ribs. Notch the long days. Look up for blue sky through the spout. Make small fires with the broken hulls of fishing boats. Practice smoke signals. Call old friends, and listen for echoes of distant voices. Organize your calendar. Dream of the beach. Look each way for the dim glow of light. Work on your reports. Review each of your...
from Not Singing by Linda Gregg
(via ahuntersheart:
I would not have it different. Ruin is everywhere. The plague of soft rain endless. We sing of loss because the only voice they gave us was song and reasoning. It is not love we are after. No love. Not singing. But a somber thing. A going to the opening and entering.
“It all comes back. Perhaps it is difficult to see the value in having one’s self...”
– Joan Didion, Slouching Toward Bethlehem (On Keeping a Notebook, 139) (via wordsinbooks)
LAST WORDS
(via godforsaken:
(ii) You have a new message: I do not want to leave you this magnetic print, this digit trace, my coded and decoded voice. I do not want to leave you. If I had a choice, my last words would be carried to your window on three slips of sugar paper in the beaks of birds of paradise. The words would say, I’m sure you know, I love you.
(viii) You have a new message: Do not...
Wakey!Wakey! - ”Girls Just Wanna Have...
Death Agony by Cesare Pavese
(via ahuntersheart:
I’ll wander around the streets until I’m dead tired I’ll learn to live alone and look every passing face square in the eye and still stay what I am. This coolness rising in me and reaching for my veins is a morning waking I’ve never felt before, never so real. Except I feel stronger than my body, and this morning’s shiver is colder than ever. The mornings I had when I was...
“The two of us in that room. No past, no future. All intense deep that-time-only....”
– John Fowles, The Collector (190) (via wordsinbooks)
“For every flowering thought there will be a page like a wet and mangy mongrel,...”
– John Steinbeck (via smut-to-go)
(via seal-loves-chairboy:
I liked that for a while we could talk about going home to the same place.
The only way I ever say “home” and mean it, is when I’m saying your name.
