i miss my home planet

[lialuna]

[lialuna]

lost my footing and tripped over the roots of your mind again

[p9sh-blog]

A I A : Alien Observer (2011), Grouper.

[lialuna]

in my dreams it’s still summer, and i’m on the train to see you

[neoyorzapoteca]

“I woke up thinking that a dream is like an illuminated manuscript, in which words and letters are enlarged, made calligraphic, highlighted, painted, with stories and symbolic figures in the margins. I find the wedding ring dream harder to talk about. At some point, we became wedded to waking consciousness, perhaps; and our choice is embedded (see how I’ve rhymed, unconsciously, “wedded” and “embedded”) in rock and flesh, the whole finger. In waking consciousness, we get a real, motile body, a stable one; in dreams we get a mind, though we also get an unstable, but often realistic, body. In the dream notebook, that morning, I also wrote: “Is dream an archaic way of thinking? Is it a memory of a way of being before time was sorted out? Do I have this memory?” I think the answer is dream is an ongoing, major component of existence.”

— Alice Notley on Writing from Dreams ‹ Literary Hub

[lialuna]

my silence keeps unforming me

[lialuna]

chelsea wolfe <3

[theoceanislikeyou]

Simone Weil, Gravity and Grace

[zegalba]

Liz McGowan: Fern Ammonite (1992)

[lialuna]

every once in a while i think about moving but then i‘ll remember my bond with the crow i feed walnuts to every morning, which at this point often waits for me on one of the surrounding buildings or trees when i get up in the mornings. and i do like that i’m so rooted in my home and immediate surroundings in ways like these. but still there are moments where the thought of missing out on a larger world becomes overwhelming

[soracities]

“It’s not ‘natural’ to speak well, eloquently, in an interesting articulate way. People living in groups, families, communes say little—have few verbal means. Eloquence—thinking in words—is a byproduct of solitude, deracination, a heightened painful individuality.”

— Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh (via boulevards)

[lialuna]

sometimes i still dream of wandering through the fields and forests surrounding your childhood home (which in my sleep appear almost unrecognizably transformed and yet so familiar), feeling with an overwhelming certainty that if i can only find the right path, the right place, i’ll finally see you again. and as i search i meet many different people telling me about you, but i never once find you - a hundred chimerical landscapes all holding different memories, but never really you

[nontemporary]

JOHANN BESSE

[lialuna]

i’m lonely because i miss myself

[wolveswolves]

Arctic wolves (Canis lupus arctos) by Jim Brandenburg

[apatheticfluorescence]

Who is sleeping underneath me on the other side of earth

[dykemuseum]