eosphoros.

"But soon we'll find we lived and died with the world in our hands."; a sideblog dedicated to literary fragment collecting + misc. media dump,

[derangedrhythms]

O Eros, silently smiling one, hear me. Let the shadow of thy wings brush me. Let thy presence enfold me, as if darkness were swandown. Let me see that darkness lamp in hand, this country become the other country sacred to desire.

Drowsy god, slow the wheels of my thought so that I listen only to the snowfall hush of thy circling. Close my beloved with me in the smoke ring of thy power, that we may be, each to the other, figures of flame, figures of smoke, figures of flesh newly seen in the dusk.

Denise Levertov, The Sorrow Dance; Hymn to Eros

[geryone]

A Fate Worse Than Death, Nisha Patel

[fatubalilghuraba-deactivated201]

ما قيمة هذه الدنيا التي تتعلقون بها ؟ 

What is the value of this world that you cling to?

[thedireful]

I prefer life, yes, to the very God who created it. Since this is the life he gave me, this is the life I’ll live.

[theoptia]

Fernando Pessoa, from The Book of Disquiet

[thedireful]

Today, suddenly, I reached an absurd but unerring conclusion. In a moment of enlightenment, I realized that I'm nobody, absolutely nobody.

[xanaxfarts]

Yoshitaka Amano: 蒼い月 (1993)

[theoptia]

Friedrich Nietzsche, from Thus Spoke Zarathustra

[theoptia]

Albert Camus, from Notebooks 1951-1959; May 13th, 1959

[derangedrhythms]

My pulse quickened, my fingertips tingled; the universe had again chosen to affirm to me that it dealt in affinities.

Pamela Erens, The Understory

[derangedrhythms]

Saturn increasingly seems to me like the guardian overseeing each individual’s predetermined developmental processes. It is the sealed athanor, the goal of the alchemist which takes time and yet aims to transcend all cyclical changes through time. It is the concentration on each phase of the work, so that the whole work might succeed. While engaged in this work, Saturn is entirely without mercy, just like the alchemist is without mercy to the ashes, the fire, and the metals. His laws are boundaries, dosages, insulation, conjunction, and patience. And it is a fickle and blind man who crosses Saturn’s path. That’s why the coercion, that’s why all the awful suffering. We are amidst the fire. We simmer, evaporate, burn, blacken, blaze, and fall to ashes.

Frater Acher, Holy Daimon

[thedireful]

i hold vigil for the soft percussions of a vanishing dial. at what invisible margin do i exist? at what seam do i envelop myself?

[thedireful]

Jorge Luis Borges, from A Personal Anthology; “A New Refutation of Time”

[thedireful]

Shlomy Mualem, from Literary Writing and Personal Identity in Borges and Pessoa

[theoptia]

C.G. Jung, from The Red Book: Liber Novus

[theoptia]

C.G. Jung, from The Red Book: Liber Novus

[pmamtraveller]

Ana Teresa Barboza

[aridante]

what did jesus do?, adam gopnik // archeology, myriam fraga (trans. chloe hill) // sacrifice: a problem for theology, simone weil // amor fati, ruth awad // xx, alex lemon // the secret history, donna tartt // music from a burning piano, traci brimhall // her body and other parties, carmen maria machado // eating snake, margaret atwood // saturday night special, natasha oladokun.

[showings]

“In early Christian hymns, hunger seems to mean human vulnerability; the implication is, therefore, that the hungry will be satisfied. In the spirituality of eleventh- and twelfth-century Europe, however, hunger began to mean a craving that can never be filled.”

— Caroline Walker Bynum | Holy Feast and Holy Fast: The Religious Significance of Food to Medieval Women