#joycean

[kafkasdiariies]

Okay so not my own unpopular opinion but I have a friend who has always thought Descartes was attractive. Like physically attractive.

SEND ME UNPOPULAR OPINIONS (OR POPULAR, IT DOESN’T MATTER) AND I’LL RATE THEM LIKE THIS:

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree✔

Ewww You’re friend has weird taste 

[arnaultcavalcanti]

James Joyce

Dubliners

Araby

[halaylah]

At some point this morning, my brain decided to start saying "fourteen years" instead of thirteen.

[naijacradles-blog]

Joycean – Solo (Prod. By Yungking)

[halaylah]

Thirteen years ago, I made a choice. I chose the man who is now my husband. I do not regret that choice... but for thirteen years, I have not stopped resenting the fact that I thought I had to choose.

[bookland978]

Everybody knows.

[kafkastan-moved]

Writing Prompt #1

[This is a tale about Thursday. WORDS: spire, hinge, computer, and butcher]

And a fucking headache. Noise piling on top of noise piling on top of the scents of early spring morning. Filling my nose and ears and eyes and lungs till I hardly breathe. The bed’s still warm. Thighs and neck covered in the sweet-tasting bruises of an early spring morning of an early spring love. Hair is moist, cheeks are flushed, I flush the toilet.

Bells ringing, sound dancing over the rooftops from the spire in the distance. Church bells, remind me of a terrifying word of commitment. Lack of liberty. I shudder. Never liked pews much anyways. Hard floor kneeling on before Christ but nothing remains in the air. Unlike the scents of early spring morning. Thighs soaked. Hair pulled. Sweetly ringing. A hand runs over it.

Broken door hinge on the bathroom, want to get to the toilet so I squeeze through. Blood on thighs between hips to knee I wipe. Done in the bathroom I squeeze back up.

Hands fall around black plastic next. Smooth screen with illuminated illusion. Laptop computer I pick up above my head go to open window and watch it fall. Like a butcher I smile at the carnage. What a delicious meal. Curtains close and I fall back with a sigh.