ー

falling / hiding

[wovi]

*

leila chatti, tea

[lena-oleanderson]

you're allowed to be held.

[watermotif]

So,​ your life. There it is before you – possibly a road, a ribbon, a dotted line, a map – let’s say you’re 25, then you make some decisions, do things, have setbacks, have triumphs, become someone, a bus driver, a professor of Indo-European linguistics, a pirate, a cosmetologist, years pass, maybe in a family maybe not, maybe happy maybe not, then one day you wake up and you’re seventy. Looking ahead you see a black doorway. You begin to notice the black doorway is always there, at the edge, whether you look at it or not. Most moments contain it, most moments have a sort of sediment of black doorway at the bottom of the glass. You wonder if other people are seeing it too. You ask them. They say no. You ask why. No one can tell you.

A minute ago you were 25. Then you went ahead getting the life you want. One day you looked back from 25 to now and there it is, the doorway, black, waiting.

— anne carson, gloves on!

[typewriter-worries]

The Glass Essay, Anne Carson | Molly Brodak, Molly Brodak

[promqueendyke]

mihaly zichy ‘romantic encounter’ + these violent delights, micah nemerever 

[greensighter]

HOW DO OTHER PEOPLE LIVE I WONDER HOW THEY KEEP IT UP WHEN TODAY IS FINALLY DONE THERE'S ANOTHER DAY TO COME THEN ANOTHER DAY TO COME THEN ANOTHER DAY TO COME

[shisasan]

August 21, 1931 Journals of Anais Nin 1927-1931 [volume 4]

[artofdyingslowly]

Disorder, Vanesha Pravin

The Truth the Dead Know, Anne Sexton

[moonstoast]

—sleep

philip geiger // michael mao // lance calkin // jeremy lipking // eugene louis boudin // vincent giarrano // nick alm // richard schmid

[days-of-reading]

Viktor Shklovsky, Technique of Writing Craft (1927)

[unsubconscious]

“This world is the closed door. It is a barrier. And at the same time it is the way through. Two prisoners whose cells adjoin communicate with each other by knocking on the wall. The wall is the thing which separates them but it is also their means of communication. Every separation is a link.”

— Simone Weil

[broutine]

“It was so gorgeous it almost felt like sadness.”

— Banana Yoshimoto, The Lake

[hel7l7]

I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this at all. 

[hel7l7]

go ahead, break me

[talestalesof]

“Night like a night in summer. It does me no good; violence has changed me. My body has grown cold like the stripped fields; now there is only my mind, cautious and wary, with the sense it is being tested.”

— Louise Glück, from Averno 

[animauxing]

I sell seashells on your seashore.

[see more comics] [slide me a $3 tip] [SHOP]

[thematicparallel]

But the older you get, the more important it is to worship at the temple of forgiveness.