c a t f o x m a n d o o

mikelle

[coolasakuhncumber]

Francis and the Lights - See Her Out (That's Just Life)

[akiraofthefour]

"The only thing worse than the thought it may all come tumbling down is the thought that we may go on like this forever."

MT Anderson, Feed

[the-dose-makes-the-poison]

“Between them there was a current, invisible but steady, like the tide pulling at the shore.”

– Maggie O’Farrell, Hamnet

[blyejay]

[maison-le-miroir]

The whole time everything had been happening with Ivan, I had always been writing about it in my notebook, or on the computer, and sometimes I wondered whether I would ever turn those pages into a novel. The thought made me feel so ashamed. It felt shameful to be so unartistic and self-obsessed, to not want to invent richly fictional characters. It felt shameful to write a whole book about Ivan. What if he found out?

[smokefalls]

Worlds upon possible worlds bloomed from the pleasure that reflected between us, doubled, multiplied. As long as I live I will see my joy on her face, see her face as mine.

C Pam Zhang, Land of Milk and Honey

[incure]

[jasmined]

“The men I had met in New York could spout a few good lines to get a girl into bed, but only James could write a messed-up sentence that got my heart pounding: “To nite I can not sleep so I will play songs to u, for Jessie, about Jessie, my inspiration.” I had to see him.”

— Learning to Silence My Inner Editor

[smokefalls]

I’m not very good at telling people how I feel. I don’t know why I’m like that and I don’t always love to think about all the tiny pieces of me that add up to make a whole person. I feel concerned that too many of the pieces have something a bit wrong with them, like a puzzle you get at an op shop on holiday when it’s raining.

Rebecca K. Reilly, Greta & Valdin

[starrover]

“Yes, show me more horrors. I will not flinch.”

— Susan Sontag, The Volcano Lover

[girlblogthings]

🪩

[teethdreamer]

Toyen – Dream (1937)

Oil on canvas, 81.1 x 100 cm. Kunsthalle Praha, Prague.

[howifeltabouthim]

“From the first moment we met … there was an unnamable sentiment between us, one that arrived so quickly there was no moment to question it. It wasn’t just love, nor was it lust or obsession. It was something both visceral and beyond viscera …”

— Catherine Lacey, from Biography of X

[a-ramblinrose]

“The story is not all mine, nor told by me alone. Indeed I am not sure whose story it is; you can judge better. But it is all one, and if at moments the facts seem to alter with an altered voice, why then you can choose the fact you like best; yet none of them are false, and it is all one story.”

―Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness

[bostonpoetryslam]

“Basically anything can hold itself hostage. The question isn’t Why? but So? Still, there are ways of touching without bulldozing, ways of washing a body without making the person inside it feel like a plate. You don’t have to sympathize with the teeth of chainsaws if you don’t want to.”

— Ruth Madievsky, “Wormhole,” published in the American Poetry Review

[hungryblueghost]

"Everything is a performance. Sometimes you need to rehearse your grief so that you come out of it alive. Sometimes you need someone to show you that you can."

—K-Ming Chang, "Meals for Mourners"

[uaravsh]

"What can I say, that will enable you to understand the depth of my sorrow?"

- Mary Shelly, from Complete Works; "Frankenstein," (@uaravsh )