Calcuchimac

I am Marco. Photography for me is a way of living a way of express my self, I try always to write a description on my pictures so you can feel the same way I felt when I took the picture or at least take you closer. Enjoy!

[democraticsenator]

“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd; the longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”

— Fernando Pessoa (via purplebuddhaquotes)

[seleccionpoetica]

Jorge Luis Borges, poesía completa.

Me encantó

[soracities]

“Xenophon, in “Retreat of the Ten Thousand,” tells us that the Greek army, dying of hunger and thirst after an excursion to Asia marked by repeated failure and humiliation, climbed to the top of a mountain from which the soldiers could see the sea, and they began to dance, forgetting their fatigue and disgust with life. We do not wish to cut ourselves off from life either. There is only one culture: not the culture that feeds on abstraction and geometry, not the culture that condemns, not the culture that justifies [abuse] and killing [and] legitimates the lust for brutal conquest. We know that culture well and want no part of it. The culture we want lives in the trees, on the hillsides, and in men.”

–Albert Camus, Algerian Chronicles

Hozier, from an interview with NPR

“You can see, all this is worth nothing,” the sculptor said, sweeping his arm through the air. “Worth nothing, Noemí, I’ve spent months making this shit, you write books, that woman denounces atrocities, we attend congresses and round tables to protest, we almost come to believe that things are changing, and then all you need is two minutes reading to understand the truth again, to—” “Shh, I’m thinking things like that right now too,” I said with a rage at having to say it. “But if I accepted them it would be like sending them a telegram of support, and, besides, you know very well that tomorrow you’ll get up and in a while you’ll be shaping another sculpture and you’ll know that I’m at my typewriter and you’ll think that we’re many, even though we’re so few, and that difference in strength isn’t and never will be any reason to be silent.”

–Julio Cortázar, “Press Clippings”

“This is the human way, she thought. On the edge of destruction, at the end of all things, we still dance. And hope.”

–Rosamund Hodge, Crimson Bound

Yakov Khalip. Soviet soldiers play a nocturne for their comrades amidst the ruins of battle. Novoshahtinsk, Rostov Oblast, Russia, Soviet Union. Autumn 1942. 

“They say a song can be a bridge, Ma. But I say it’s also the ground we stand on. And maybe we sing to keep ourselves from falling. Maybe we sing to keep ourselves.”

–Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Novel

“And this is the map of my heart, the landscape after cruelty which is, of course, a garden, which is a tenderness, which is a room, a lover saying Hold me tight, it’s getting cold. We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven, which brings us back to the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.”

–Richard Siken, “Snow and Dirty Rain”

–sam sax, “Prayer for the Mutilated World”

[seleccionpoetica]

Neil Hilborn.

Poeta estadounidense que padece del trastorno -obsesivo compulsivo- (TOC)

[oo111111]

Opera Aperta by Umberto Eco

[siempervivum]

[eviladdictions]

I’m gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry

Chandelier (via eviladdictions)

[elvicioabsurdo-deactivated20230]

El dolor no brota de no tener. Brota de querer tener y sin embargo no tener. El querer tener es la conditio sine qua non para que el dolor sea eficaz.

Arthur Schopenhauer.

[bruja-cosmicaa]

[neckkiss]

via weheartit

[cuandoyoencontreunsephora]

[recazo]

Ruenda M.

[bnmxfld]

Lorde / Sober

[dappermouth]

You felt alive here–fearful and wild and beautiful.

[des-preocupate-deactivated20181]

Así, tan tú.

[irradiar-amor-deactivated201903]

tan infinito

[de-espalda-al-infinito]

Tan tú.

[johincap]

[ernestoperezvallejo]

Ojalá estuvieras aquí ahora. Me gustaría ponerte los nuevos cantautores que he descubierto. Casi todos ellos siguen hablando de ti. Arrancar a mordiscos las hojas de tu pijama otoñal. Romperte otro botón de alguna blusa. Despertarme a tiempo para ver una vez más, que es igual de sensual ver cómo te desnudas, que contemplar cómo te vistes. Calentarte los pies bajo la cama, besarte mucho, tanto, que no sepa cuándo te beso o cuándo me estoy besando. Acariciarte con las yemas de los dedos la espalda hasta que bosteces, que el aire que te sobra, aún es el aire que me falta. Y ver cómo tus zapatitos rojos te esperan en el umbral de la puerta. Y sentirte regresar buscando en mi piel el exilio de ti misma. Que me mordieras la boca como entonces, para sembrar la duda, si dolías más cuando estabas en mis labios o cuando los dejabas sin ti. Y tumbarnos a ver pasar las nubes, sin que pasara el tiempo, recordar que siempre tuvimos veintisiete años, que jamás hubo un reloj que se atreviera a decirnos lo contrario, ni calendario que marcara otras estaciones distintas a las que pactamos en el primer abrazo.

Ernesto Pérez Vallejo (via ernestoperezvallejo)