[doortoanotherdoortoanotherdoor]

with my brain small, my meat huge, my pain endless, i tread onwards

[cruzfucker]

[einesymphonie]

One of my favorite moments in The Pillowman.

Katurian: What happens from here on in?

Tupolski: We get word back about the mute girl... we put this hood over your head, we take you to the room next door, we shoot you through the head.

(Pause.)

Is that right? No. We take you to the room next door, then we put the hood on you, then we shoot you through the head. If we put the hood on you before we take you to the room next door, y'know, you might bump into something, hurt yourself.

Katurian: Why the room next door? Why not here?

Tupolski: The room next door, it's easier to mop up.

Katurian: (Pause)

Do you do it out of the blue, like, just out of the blue, or do you give me a minute to say a prayer or something?

Tupolski: Well, first I sing a song about a little pony and then Ariel takes out his hedgehog. Y'know, his execution hedgehog? And when the hedgehog's out, well, you've got either thirteen or twenty-seven seconds left, depending on the size of the hedgehog.

(Pause.)

If I'm gonna do it out of the blue, I'm not gonna tell you I'm gonna do it out of the blue, Am I?! Jesus! For a supposed genius writer-stroke-psycho-killer, you're a bit fucking thick!

(Pause.)

From when the hood goes on you've got about ten seconds. So, y'know, keep the Latin chants to a minimum.

[socialpsychopathblr]

[peelingmandarins]

“There is a theory that watching unbearable stories about other people lost in grief and rage is good for you – may cleanse you of your darkness. Do you want to go down to the pits of yourself all alone? Not much. What if an actor could do it for you? Isn’t that why they are called actors? They act for you. You sacrifice them to action. And this sacrifice is a mode of deepest intimacy of you with your own life.”

— Anne Carson, from Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides; Tragedy: A Curious Art Form. (via xshayarsha)

[oblivion-soave]

Visit Original Link

Javier Navarrete | Gypsy Dance

[laclefdescoeurs]

Sunset Over the Plains; or Deer in a Sunset, 1887, Albert Bierstadt

[mydarkenedeyes]

My shadow binds itself to me. My soul whirls, rushing overhead, grazing my hair with the flurry of its wings. Gods sail in the dawn with a cargo of souls waiting to be born. I am the first to walk this road, bringing the reckoning of years. With the eye of sun I see the continuous motion of days, words only silence could have brought to my ears, and light in the eye of the world still to come. My soul, shadow and I are walking.

― Awakening Osiris: The Egyptian Book of the Dead, translated by Normandi Ellis (Chapter 31, His Soul and His Shadow)  I’m really enjoying this book, some of the passages are so moving. The translation is stunningly poetic. It’s a beautiful read, in the most mysterious and dark way. A big thank you to @sinribbon for the amazing recommendation.

[pickypicnic]

[lesgardenias]

“If the full moon loves you, why worry about the stars?”

— Tunisian proverb

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“You feel love fiery enough to prove flesh real,”

— Sylvia Plath, from The Collected Poems; “Soliloquy of the Solipsist,” c. 1958

[soracities]

I will play the swan, / And die in music.

William Shakespeare, Othello (via soracities)

[terranaut]

[peterfromtexas-deactivated20250]

Travel photographer Sarah Bethea captured this breathtaking photo last winter in Iceland of a setting sun’s golden rays entering an ice cave and turning a section of the cave’s ice amber.

[holy-mother-of-goats]

All the promotion art from Channel Zero: Candle Cove on SyFy 

[adrasteiax]

We’re stories telling stories, (…)

Fernando Pessoa, from Nothing Comes Of Nothing. We Are Nothing in “Pessoa: Poems Of Fernando” [translated and edited by Edwin Honig and Susan M. Brown] (via adrasteiax)

[desflorecia]

[dadalux]

Metamorphosis | Hiroko Otake