Le Cirque de Dédain

lamentations of a(semi)functional phobic

[iamjapanese]

Paul Manes （1948, American）

1. Phryne 2024 oil on canvas 78h x 96w in 2. Ypres 2025 oil on canvas 54h x 66w in via

[northwindow]

from Bhanu Kapil’s The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers

[lastchatwithphontaine]

Gaslighting

This is a happy house, there are no screams or shouts. Just silence, a clock ticks the time away, uncaring towards the inhabitants.

A fist punches a door repeatedly. The handle is yanked and the door slammed. Once, twice. Slammed it again. For good measure.

                                                                                    A mother worries.

 Fists hits one’s thighs repeatedly. To scream would be a kindness.

The thoughts swirl like a broken record player. The disk is scratched and the thoughts are loud and angry. Molten, wicked.  Vitriol as a state of being.

There’s something broken inside, maybe the fracture was there from the beginning and with the passing of years, it just grew bigger and bigger, until it turned into a maw about to envelop the whole body from the inside

            After all, the hands break all that they touch. Careless or not careful enough.

                                                The mother is worried.

This is a happy house and no dark shadows lurk in the corners. Only cobwebs and a sense of whelming.

            Not the hero of the story, but the architect of one’s misery

This is a haunted home.

All will be quiet soon. In a year or a decade.

S o o n

[lastchatwithphontaine]

It's my 16 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

A month overdue ^^

[weltenwellen]

Louise Glück, from “Unpainted Door”, Poems 1962-2012

[admitier]

[ID: A quote by Louise Glück. It reads, “(red underlining) I remember my childhood as a long wish to be elsewhere. (underlining ends)” End ID.]

[morsesnotes]

I'm to retire. D.C.I. Thursday's with Carshall. Now I hear Strange is to be seconded to Kidlington. Yes, sir. What of your own future? Well, I suppose I'm undecided sir.

[flowerytale]

Ilya Kaminsky, from "Musica Humana", Dancing in Odessa: Poems

[prettyfamous]

Jack Farthing | 1883 | Hanako Footman | January 2022

[stillnesswithin]

Sin is a word that has been greatly misunderstood and misinterpreted. Literally translated from the ancient Greek in which the New Testament was written, to sin means to miss the mark, as an archer who misses the target, so to sin means to miss the point of human existence. It means to live unskillfully, blindly, and thus to suffer and cause suffering. Again, the term, stripped of its cultural baggage and misinterpretations, points to the dysfunction inherent in the human condition.

Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth

(via elige)

[viixxxcii]

The arches of her feet are like voices of children calling in the grove of lemon trees, where my heart is as helpless as crushed birds.

From “Finding Something” by Jack Gilbert (via aequinoctium)

[killingmycreativity]

We danced in each others dreams. It took a forever’s time for the world to stop fighting, for the bombs to stop falling on all of our heads. And when we did, all we had was our dreams. The nuclear war ravaged the soil, it ripped our hearts out and destroyed our souls. When it was over, all we had left were the machines, and sleep. So, we downloaded the dreams of the dead into the our memories, and we plugged ourselves into the machines and we slept. Technology is evolution and it advanced without us. We slept, and the world healed, and the machines cradled us as we danced in each others dreams. We live forever here, in the world we created from our own destruction. And the flowers bloom without our help.

Kill It: Flowers are blooming and I am Dying  (via -clu-)

[mizenscen-blog]

I like the sea: we understand one another. It is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; and so am I.

Greta Garbo (Picture Show Magazine Interview, 1927) (via mizenscen)

[lastchatwithphontaine]

Man is the cruelest animal. At tragedies, bullfights, and crucifixions he has so far felt best on earth; and when he invented hell for himself, behold, that was his very heaven.

 Friedrich Nietzsche (via lastchatwithphontaine)

[lastchatwithphontaine]

We can never be gods, after all–but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.

N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms (via lastchatwithphontaine)

[lastchatwithphontaine]

10 percent of any population is cruel, no matter what, and 10 percent is merciful, no matter what, and the remaining 80 percent can be moved in either direction.

Susan Sontag (via lastchatwithphontaine)

[lastchatwithphontaine]

The unselfish effort to bring cheer to others will be the beginning of a happier life for ourselves

Helen Keller

[pipperine]

had no idea young neil gaiman had so much SWAG going on back in the day