12.17.2015

Blue Octavo




December 17.
Empty days.



Franz Kafka // The Blue Octavo Notebooks

12.14.2015

12.10.2015

12.01.2015

anoesis







(noun) Psychology. A rare word, anoesis is characterized as a state of blind emotion filled with extreme sensation without any cognitive awareness. Your senses, perception and feelings are extremely elevated and devoid  of intellectual comprehension.




etymology: Ancient Greek:anoēsis = “lack of understanding”
Capture

11.09.2015

Screwjack




I am guilty, Lord, but I am also a lover - and I am one of your best people, as you know; and yes though I have walked in many strange shadows and acted crazy from time to time and even drooled on many High Priests, I have not been an embarrassment to you… So leave me alone, goddamnit, and send Mr. Screwjack back to me; and if the others have any questions or snide comments about it, tell them to eat shit and die.





Hunter S. Thompson // Screwjack

11.02.2015

Simulacro



Pornography “shows it all,”..and for that very reason produces the mere simulacrum of sexuality, while the process of seduction consists entirely in the play of appearances, hints, and promises, and thereby evokes the elusive domain of the suprasensible sublime Thing.

10.28.2015

1995





Pine scent, backseat of
a Toyota
Two dresses;
both velvet, one crushed
saying Merry Christmas!
and having affairs





My hands grieve for
your gentle enthusiasms
Every morning
I am heavy with contradictions

Sometimes, but rarely,
the Night is fast.





Sara Sutterlin





10.26.2015

10.23.2015

10.21.2015

10.16.2015

10.14.2015

Thalassophile






(noun) A rare word, thalassophile is defined as a lover of the ocean. A  thalassophile appreciate the calm and violent beauty of the sea, as well as its natural duality between vulnerability and strength. Water is the only element which is simultaneously strong to cause an uprising, but delicate enough to sneak into the Earth’s smallest creaks.

10.01.2015

Apanthropinization




(noun) A rare and ancient word in the English lexicon, apanthropinization is defined as the act of withdrawing oneself from the state of humanity and its inevitable turmoil and anxiety. Although, phonetically and aesthetically, the word is harsh, its meaning originated from a delicate urge: the primitive human need to lust in beauty, particularly the beauty of nature. Without a doubt apanthropinization possesses hermit-like behavior, but surfaces from instinct. One does not retreat because he/she is bitter, but rather retreats to the primal urge to admire and become captivated by beauty and symmetry.

9.22.2015

Ravenous




I like my women tragic,
silent, & ravenous souled.



Jack Kerouac // Book Of Sketches

9.21.2015

Peregrino



It’s as if something nests
in the bowl of your name…
something moves when I write it…
something turns when I say it…
something with bones and breath
and a terrible hunger to fly.

- Peregrine


9.19.2015

9.17.2015

9.09.2015

Nefelibata






(n.) lit. "cloud wlaker" ; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams; on e who does not obey the conventions of society, literature, or art.

9.08.2015

8.27.2015

8.26.2015

8.24.2015

Goofy Smile



I live for the boy with the beautiful eyes. I live for the boy with the messy hair & goofy smile. The boy that I haven’t seen in six months, but still feel as strongly for him as I did this time last year. I live for the boy I can’t have, the one that rips my heart open over & over again. The boy that has had a hold on my world. The boy who has become the sun to my earth ever since the first conversation we had. The boy that finds comfort in the arms of someone else. I live for this one boy, this one person. I live for you.

8.20.2015

Lo que uno siente

Menudo Temor



Why do people have confidence in their little conscious world, and such fear of the much deeper and larger one below consciousness?


Anaïs Nin, from The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4: 1944-1947

8.18.2015

8.12.2015

7.23.2015

Quixotico




“quixotic”
(adjective) In our list of most interesting words, quixotic is the most romantic in every sense. To be quixotic means to be excessively romantic and chivalrous; illogical, idealistic, overall dreamy. It is viewed as an over-idealism filled with absurdity.

7.22.2015

Alegre Nihilismo



The art of our time is noisy with appeals for silence. A coquettish, even cheerful nihilism. One recognizes the imperative of silence, but goes on speaking anyway.


Susan Sontag

7.21.2015

A Trembling Thing



I thought that I could not be hurt;
I thought that I must surely be
impervious to suffering —
immune to mental pain
or agony.

My world was warm with April sun
my thoughts were spangled green and gold;
my soul filled up with joy, yet felt
the sharp, sweet pain that only joy
can hold.

My spirit soared above the gulls
that, swooping breathlessly so high
o’erhead, now seem to brush their whir-
ring wings against the blue roof
of the sky.

(How frail the human heart must be —
a throbbing pulse, a trembling thing —
a fragile, shining instrument
of crystal, which can either weep,
or sing.)

Then, suddenly my world turned gray,
and darkness wiped aside my joy.
A dull and aching void was left
where careless hands had reached out to destroy

my silver web of happiness.
The hands then stopped in wonderment,
for, loving me, they wept to see
the tattered ruins of my firma-
ment.

(How frail the human heart must be —
a throbbing pulse, a trembling thing —
a fragile, shining instrument
of crystal, which can either weep,
or sing.)

7.17.2015

7.08.2015

En el Nombre del Cielo




How in heaven’s name can I write anything when I seem to be constantly writing to you.


Anne Sexton

7.07.2015



Paradoxically, the ability to be alone is the condition for the ability to love.





Erich Fromm // The Art of Loving

6.25.2015

65





One day, whether you are 14, 28 or 65, you will stumble upon someone who will start a fire in you that cannot die. However, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find - is they are not always with whom we spend our lives.


Beau Taplin // Hunting Season

6.16.2015

Echizo de Tinta




Fire and water,… don’t really mix. You could say they’re incompatible. But when they do love each other, they love passionately.




Cornelia Funke // Inkspell

6.15.2015

La Douleur Exquise




(idiom) A French, untranslatable phrase, describing the heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have. To say this phrase is synonymous with unrequited love limits its beauty. Unrequited love describes a relationship state, but not a state of mind. Unrequited love encompasses the lover who isn’t corresponding, as well as the lover who desires. La douleur exquise evokes the emotional heartache, specifically, of being the one whose love is unreciprocated.

6.01.2015

image
 

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5.19.2015

Y Nadie se le Aproxima

19 May. He feels more deserted with a second person than when alone. If he is together with someone, this second person reaches out for him and he is helplessly delivered into his hand. If he is alone, all mankind reaches out for him – but the innumerable outstretched arms become entangled with one another and no one reaches to him.

Franz Kafka’s diary entry of 19 May 1922. From The Diaries of Franz Kafka.” Schocken Books. Translation by Martin Greenberg.

5.15.2015

Bestial



In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”



Stephen Crane // 1895

5.12.2015





All those ships that never sailed
The ones with their seacocks open
That were scuttled in their stalls...
Today I bring them back
Huge and intransitory
And let them sail
Forever



Bob Kaufman

5.10.2015

Genésico


Vivir es darse, perpetuarse, y perpetuarse y darse es morir. Acaso el supremo deleite del engendrar no es sino un anticipado gustar de la muerte, el desgarramiento de la propia esencia vital. Nos unimos a otro, pero es para partirnos; ese más íntimo abrazo no es sino un más íntimo desgrarramiento. En su fondo, el deleite amoroso sexual, el espasmo genésico, es una sensación de resurrección, de resucitar en otro, porque sólo en otros podemos resucitar para perpetuarnos.


El sentimiento trágico de la vida // Miguel de Unamuno

4.28.2015

Inward




If I rest, if I think inward, I go mad.


Sylvia Plath

4.27.2015

Saudade



“saudade”

(noun) A Portuguese, untranslatable word romanticizing nostalgia in its purest form. This beautiful feeling captures the yearning for someone or something that you love, which is now lost. It is a melancholic longing. Saudade’s pronunciation varies according to the speaker and country, which only adds to its sincerity and vulnerability.

4.22.2015

Acto



Her concise speaking style was strangely persuasive. From every word that came to her lips, he felt a precise, wedge-like thrust. He still could not tell though, how seriously he should take her. There was something out of the ordinary about her, a screw slightly loose. It was an inborn quality, perhaps. He might be in the presence of an authentic talent in its most natural form, or it could all be an act.



-  Haruki Murakami

4.21.2015

Irremarcable


Mara tells me that he was
no one special. Okay.
I believe her.
He was no one special.
Unremarkable, even.
A newspaper man with coffee
breath and ugly sneakers.
Mara tells me to let go.

But I waited for him, Mara.
I ate the scraps of his heart like
a starving dog under the dinner
table.
I slept at his feet and then by the
door when he was too far away.


I dreamt of coffee. I brought
the newspaper in every morning.

He was no one special, but it
didn’t matter, Mara,
because I kissed his stained teeth.
I brushed his unremarkable hair,
rested my head on his soft,
unremarkable stomach.

There was no hunger like my
hunger, Mara.
No man like my plain man.
No torch like my torch.

"

Caitlyn Siehl, Unremarkable (via alonesomes)

4.16.2015

Titus



When I saw the couple get into the taxicab the mind felt as if, after being divided, it had come together again in a natural fusion. The obvious reason would be that it is natural for the sexes to co-operate. One has a profound, if irrational, instinct in favour of the theory that the union of man and woman makes for the greatest satisfaction, the most complete happiness. But the sight of the two people getting into the taxi and the satisfaction it gave me made me also ask whether there are two sexes in the mind corresponding to the two sexes in the body, and whether they also require to be united in order to get complete satisfaction and happiness? And I went on amateurishly to sketch a plan of the soul so that in each of us two powers preside, one male, one female; and in the man’s brain the man predominates over the woman, and in the woman’s brain the woman predominates over the man. The normal and comfortable state of being is that when the two live in harmony together, spiritually co-operating. If one is a man, still the woman part of his brain must have effect; and a woman also must have intercourse with the man in her.



Coleridge perhaps meant this when he said that a great mind is androgynous. It is when this fusion takes place that the mind is fully fertilized and uses all its faculties. Perhaps a mind that is purely masculine cannot create, any more than a mind that is purely feminine, I thought. But it would be well to test what one meant by man-womanly, and conversely by woman-manly, by pausing and looking at a book or two.

Coleridge … meant, perhaps, that the androgynous mind is resonant and porous; that it transmits emotion without impediment; that it is naturally creative, incandescent and undivided. In fact one goes back to Shakespeare’s mind as the type of the androgynous, of the man-womanly mind… And if it be true that it is one of the tokens of the fully developed mind that it does not think specially or separately of sex, how much harder it is to attain that condition now than ever before… No age can ever have been as stridently sex-conscious as our own…

4.13.2015

Castigado



Here I go again,
talking myself up the side of another
treacherous mountain.
I work my way up.

And then you come through,
blowing my progress down with your
turbulent zephyr.
You take me back down.

I fumble and fall,
tumbling towards the ground of the
tentative bottom.
I fracture the ground.

And it’s you who comes,
saving me from dropping beneath by
throwing yourself in.
You prevent the drop.

But you can’t go on,
pulling me off the endless sea of cliffs
time and time again.
We need for this end.

We must leave the heights,
flying to the ground below the cloud’s
triggering descent.
We meet solid ground.



Sarah Marie Pardy // Grounded