December 2011
1 tag
i awoke on the bathroom floor, the walls swirling with a strange complexion of ineffable dreams still lingering.
and in the pocket of some black overalls, smelling of cigar smoke and caffeine, beneath some translucent cascade of shoulders, an aurelian chrysalis squirmed in perpetual expectancy. and like in some strange chromatic aberration, the walls became a misunderstood distortion and the...
2 tags
“The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions...”
– Edward Bernays
“We’re all dreamers; we don’t know who we are.
Some machine made us; machine of...”
–
Louise Glück, “Mother and Child” (The Seven Ages, Ecco, 2001)
caliraised:
Jemini The Gifted One - Brooklyn...
“Every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters.”
– Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
“Increasingly, the individual felt himself to be a single flicker between the...”
– Olaf Stapledon, Last and First Men
“We are in a period of such individualism that one no longer speaks of disciples;...”
– Jean Cocteau - Opium
“Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his...”
– Jean Cocteau - On Invisibility
Ivanico's box: Apollinian and Dionysian... →
[…] Nietzsche accentuates that the development of art depends largely on the duality of two forces, namely, Apollinian and Dionysian that constitute the dichotomy between creation and destruction. Apollo’s illusory world with unified imagery, which indicates ‘things as mere phantoms or dreams’…
1 tag
http:// →
foxandfayvel:
Van Gogh writing his brother for paints Hemingway testing his shotgun Celine going broke as a doctor of medicine the impossibility of being human Villon expelled from Paris for being a thief Faulkner drunk in the gutters of his town the impossibility of being human Burroughs killing his…
1 tag
man with bones, trapped within a wandering adolescence. if you don’t know what it’s like, i can’t tell you. think, it’s like: the attics are always older than the houses they are attached to. now, think: opposite. like iridescence, like old man of men. like smoulder bones, bolder bones, colder bones, like old man of men. he walks, wanders with feathers in his hat, ...
“In this pilgrimage in search of modernity I lost my way at many points only to...”
– Octavio Paz
“I am but too conscious of the fact that we are born in an age when only the dull...”
– Oscar Wilde
1 tag
childish vanity: the immortally open wooden eyes, all-seeing omniscient on vain vanity tables. we grow out of that envy, don’t we? but perhaps there is no alleviation, no self-accretion, only a growth into the destruction of growth. and, while eyes wide, paradigms of perfection do not even wince when we, weary, fall into our final stage of hopeless imperfection.
1 tag
grandfather’s sea-green language, muffled and drowned in ‘before’ and ‘after’. lovers admire birds in broken branches: wet, dark bodies singing of mighty sea-sounding men. hands clasped, listening, falling into rain-soaked earth, remembering mighty bearded admirals who tried to sing the same songs.
