January 8th, 2011
|“Àine dipped a finger in the sea and tasted: brackish water, acidic and musty, a taste so concentrated that it filled her sinuses and clung to her palate, overwhelming.|
Every drop of the ocean lives. To say it teems is insufficient. It is an ecology, an orchestra, a cosmos unto itself, thick with algae and bacteria, luxuriant with amoebas, populous with diatoms cheerfully engaged in the biogeochemical cycling of carbon, oxygen, phosphorous, iron, and silicate. Every sea is alive, and every man is a sea."
|“We believe elegance can be casual. We believe gratefulness is compatible with fits of laughter. We believe it’s completely acceptable to be sexy. We believe in dinner parties, charity parties, beach parties, dance parties, and parties in general… We believe in living a colorful life.”|
- Lilly Pulitzer
“Humans are the only animal that blushes, laughs, has religion, wages war, and kisses with lips. So in a way, the more you kiss with lips, the more human you are. And the more you wage war.”
“May I at least carry, to the boundless possibility contained in the abyss of everything, the glory of my disillusion like that of a great dream, and the splendor of not believing like a banner of defeat; a banner in feeble hands, but still and all a banner, dragged through mud and the blood of the weak but raised high for who knows what reason—whether in defiance, or as a challenge, or in mere desperation—as we vanish into quicksand. No one knows for what reason, because no one knows anything, and the sand swallows those with banners as it swallows those without. And the sand covers everything: my life, my prose, my eternity. I carry my awareness of defeat like a banner of victory.” - Frenando Pess
DesiderataGo placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
—- Max Ehrmann, 1927
December 5th, 2010
|02:53 pm - Lists|
seashells in pretty rainbow colours
velvet and lace
hot tea with milk
derelict building sides
and broken industrial design
good crime novels are rare
stained,painted, coloured glass
playing in the snow
snow snow snow
looking at the river from the top of a bridge
and both together: dipping pain au chocolat in espresso
sitting in cafés, reading, writing, and watching people
walks in the park
getting handmade presents
August 20th, 2010
do you have a twitter at all? i just got an iphone and i'd love to stay in touch with you more. please let me know!
mine is here: http://twitter.com/mrsequitone
July 26th, 2010
It's not about how long it takes you, but about whether you do it or not.
July 16th, 2010
and then i realise that i love life so much, it brings tears to my eyes. early morning water, saltwater; bruises on my thighs, cuts on my legs from running through the thorny rosebushes. i have so much love to give, it makes me implode.
May 12th, 2010
“A living organism … feeds upon negative entropy … Thus the device by which an organism maintains
itself at a fairly high level of orderliness (i.e. a fairly low level of entropy) really consists in continually
sucking orderliness from its environment. “
April 6th, 2010
“When I put my hands on your body on your flesh I feel the history of that body. Not just the beginning of its forming in that distant lake but all the way beyond its ending. I feel the warmth and texture and simultaneously I see the flesh unwrap from the layers of fat and disappear. I see the fat disappear from the muscle. I see the muscle disappearing from around the organs and detaching itself from the bones. I see the organs gradually fade into transparency leaving a gloaming skeleton gleaming like ivory that slowly revolves until it becomes dust. I am consumed in the sense of your weight the way your flesh occupies momentary space the fullness of it beneath my palms. I am amazed at how perfectly your body fits to the curves of my hands. If I could attach our blood vessels so we could become each other I would. If I could attach our blood vessels in order to anchor you to the earth to this present time to me I would. If I could open up your body and slip inside your skin and look out your eyes and forever have my lips fused with yours I would. It makes me weep to feel the history of your flesh beneath my hands in a time of so much loss. It makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side to create a series of gestures to reach up around my neck to draw me nearer. All these memories will be lost in time like tears in the rain.”
March 31st, 2010
January 14th, 2010
|10:59 pm - “There they stand, the innumerable stars, shining in order like a living hymn, written in light. ~N.|
“Why was I born among mirrors?
The daylight revolves around me.
And the night herself repeats me
in all her constellations.”
— From Song of the barren orange tree by Lorca.
“I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat was threadbare—there were holes at his elbows; the water passed through his shoes and the stars through his soul.”
— Victor Hugo, Les Miserables
“And all the time, and all the time, my love,
You too are there, beneath the word, above
The syllable, to underscore and stress
The vital rhythm. One heard a woman’s dress
Rustle in days of yore. I’ve often caught
The sound and sense of your approaching thought.
And all in you is youth, and you make new,
By quoting them, old things I made for you.”
— Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire
“Isn’t it funny how you can ache just
from the deadly drone of
— Charles Bukowski
“Two rules to success in life. 1. Don’t tell people everything you know.”
“I am too pure for you or anyone”
— Sylvia Plath
“Every man is born as many men and dies as a single one.”
“so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache”
— Pablo Neruda
“Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.”
Ray bradbury, Dandelion wine
“Prime numbers are what is left when you have taken all the patterns away. I think prime numbers are like life. They are very logical but you could never work out the rules, even if you spent all your time thinking about them.”
— Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time
I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.”
— Sylvia Plath
“The mind I love must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown little wood, the chance of a snake or two, a pool that nobody’s fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind.”
“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.”
— William Shakespeare
I feel ancient, as though I had
Lived many lives.
And may never now know
If I am a fool
Or have done what my
“If you go home with someone and they don’t have any books, don’t fuck them.”
The name—of it—is “Autumn”—
The hue—of it—is Blood—
An Artery—upon the Hill—
A Vein—along the Road—
Woman, sister, the cave wants our skin back,
it wants to shake our legs free from salt
and untwist our hair into strands of yarn
pulled rootless from the pocket of a man
Hear the soprano’s vibrato, November,
Water surface trembles, cold in the troughs.
She transforms blowing hedges into fences,
She transforms scarlet leaves into moths.
Curse One: The Wraith
by Cynthia Huntington
You are a small shape of death crouched among leaves.
The twist of your red mouth is the torque of poison.
Tangle of leaves, spill of leaves, slow rot of leaves…
Misery, ruin, iniquity. You are the scuffling thing in dry grass.
Rodent, snail, the curly-legged spider, centipede, rat snake.
I see you by the back-hooded barbecue in November, brooding
like the smoke of burned meat. The fire in the coals gone out,
the sun hung low and weak in smoldering sky, cold
breath of winter. You are all smoke breath, grief, and conniving.
You are the alien thing invading my garden, a haunt, a plague,
lurking beyond light and warmth, there in the shadows wearing
death inside out, a curse on the sky. You are a spot, a flaw, a
blotch and a stain on the world you corrupt and I hate
you and fear you and look for you everywhere with dread.
“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain”
— Jim Morrison
"If you want to create, you have to sacrifice superficiality, some security, and often your desire to be liked, to draw up your most intense insights, your most far-reaching visions."
"What is the basic nutrition for the soul? Well, it differs from creature to creature, but here are some combinations. ... For some women air, night, sunlight, and trees are necessities. For others, words, paper, and books are the only things that satiate. For others, color, form, shadow, and clay at the absolutes. Some women must leap, bow, and run, for their souls crave dance. Yet others crave only a tree-leaning peace."
|06:54 pm - FRIENDS ONLY|
“Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof & instant coffee, to unemployment insurance & library cards, to absinthe & good-hearted landlords, to music & warm bodies & contraceptives… & to the ‘good life’, whatever it is & where it happens to be.” — Hunter S. Thompson
comment if you want to get added.