That Pattern On The Wall

I flew across the Pacific and felt terrified. it's hard to explain to people how much you loved the solitude of another place, and strange that you want to explain it at all. my favorite things generally have to do with sailing the high seas, like pirate radio and the beluga whale. my favorite color is gold, which would be better if it were only a color-blend and had no other form or history. I am dogmatic in the sense that I believe in believing, and I've seen the proof.

[elephantsacross]

Daily research: 

The Conquest of Bread -- Peter Kropotkin

#anarchistcommunist

[elephantsacross]

home alone = dancing to this

CRYSTAL FIGHTERS - AT HOME (OFFICIAL VIDEO) (by Crystal Fighters)

[proustitute]

And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.

Anna Akhmatova, You Will Hear Thunder, trans. D. M. Thomas (via proustitute)

[theonlymagicleftisart]

(Jason.Solo)

[bazaardotco]

Irisentei Tea House, 2010 — Terunobu Fujimori

[elephantsacross]

always on the move #texas #flag #roadtrips

[elephantsacross]

Election day song. #gooddaytoday #election

[elephantsacross]

Rone - Parade (by TheCreatorsProject)

[elephantsacross]

[trevorholst]

[elephantsacross]

this.

[elephantsacross]

In particular those who are condemned to stagnation are often pronounced happy on the pretext that happiness consists in being at rest. This notion we reject, for our perspective is that of existentialist ethics. Every subject plays his part as such specifically through exploits or projects that serve as a mode of transcendence; he achieves liberty only through a continual reaching out towards other liberties. There is no justification for present existence other than its expansion into an indefinitely open future. Every time transcendence falls back into immanence, stagnation, there is a degradation of existence into the ‘en-sois’ – the brutish life of subjection to given conditions – and of liberty into constraint and contingence. This downfall represents a moral fault if the subject consents to it; if it is inflicted upon him, it spells frustration and oppression. In both cases it is an absolute evil. Every individual concerned to justify his existence feels that his existence involves an undefined need to transcend himself, to engage in freely chosen projects.

the second sex by simone de beauvoir

[elephantsacross]

Sunset Kingdom (Taken with Instagram at Butler Park (formerly Town Lake Park))

[elephantsacross]

a new day

[elephantsacross]

thus conscience does make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pitch and moment, with this regard their currents turn awry,  and lose the name of action. 

[proustitute]

And if I say the words will you know them? Is there world? Are they still calling it that?

Peter Gizzi, from “Bardo” (via proustitute)

[basiclie-blog-blog]

there ought to be a place to go when you can’t sleep or you’re tired of getting drunk and the grass doesn’t work anymore, and I don’t mean go on to hash or cocaine, I mean a place to go besides a death that’s waiting and a love that doesn’t work anymore. there ought to be a place to go when you can’t sleep besides a tv set or a movie or a newspaper or a novel about a woman whit her clit in her throat. it’s not having that place to go that creates the people in madhouses and the suicides. I suppose what most people do when there isn’t any place to go is to go to someplace or something that hardly satisfies them, and this ritual tends to sandpaper them into a dullness where they can relax without hope. those faces you see everyday on the streets were not created entirely without thought: be kind to them: they have: escaped.

Charles Bukowski: A Plausible Finish (via basiclie)

[elephantsacross]

Taken with Instagram