A head full of diamonds with shoes filled of stones

Alya Kazakevich

2011-06-10T06:33:00.000-07:00

A Little treasure off South of Canal Street...

2010-10-27T00:06:00.000-07:00

another flush of sticky notes

2010-09-30T10:26:00.000-07:00

I love you better. I always have. This may be a bad thing to tell you, but it’s true. I love you better. Else why would I have given myself the trouble of hurting you?

John Steinbeck, from “East of Eden

You see that young lady in red? Over there? Go and talk to her. Have a passionate weekend during which both of you make love until you’re sore and bleeding. Then, without knowing why, refuse to see her again. She’ll phone you up, and hang around your house. When you ask her to leave you alone she’ll just cry and not say anything — look at you with hurt eyes and follow you around. Eventually this will make you so angry you’ll find yourself needing desperately to make her say something. To make her react. To hurt her. To get her eyes out of your mind. After that it will be just a matter of time.
— The Sandman: Brief Lives, Neil Gaiman

You people always hold onto old identities, old faces and masks, long after they’ve served their purpose. But you’ve got to learn to throw things away eventually.
— The Sandman: Dream Country, Neil Gaiman

I have this fear of being thrown away. Of feeling like I’m just not as important to other people as they are to me. That feeling leads me to hold on so tight to folks who don’t want to be held onto and then keep a slim grip on those who do want to be held.
— Bassey Ikpi

"The next time I wake up, I want it to be in a rabbit hole to the sound of you making coffee, with the warm, salty sea; its waves crashing over me."
Seabear

As long as I have a want, I have a reason for living. Satisfaction is death.
Overruled, George Bernard Shaw

“ One rarely falls in love without being as much attracted to what is interestingly wrong with someone as what is objectively healthy. Alain de Botton

It no longer bothers me that I may be constantly searching for father figures; by this time, I have found several and dearly enjoyed knowing them all.
— Alice Walker

“ Your head’s like mine, like all our heads; big enough to contain every god and devil there ever was. Big enough to hold the weight of oceans and the turning stars. Whole universes fit in there! But what do we choose to keep in this miraculous cabinet? Little broken things, sad trinkets that we play with over and over. The world turns our key and we play the same little tune again and again and we think that tune’s all we are.
— The Invisibles, Grant Morrison.

“ I’m going to paraphrase Thoreau here…rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness…give me truth. Into the Wild, Jon Krakaeur

And there’s verbophobia, fear of words. Which must mean that it’s best not to speak, said Juan de Dios Martínez. There’s more to it than that, because words are everywhere, even in silence, which is never complete silence, is it?
— Roberto Bolaño, from 2666

Everything is a self-portrait. A diary. Your whole drug history’s in a strand of your hair. Your fingernails. The forensic details. The lining of your stomach is a document. The calluses on your hand tell all your secrets. Your teeth give you away. Your accent. The wrinkles around your mouth and eyes. Everything you do shows your hand.
— Chuck Palahniuk

The girl in the mirror caught my eye briefly…It is an uncanny feeling, that rare occasion when one catches a glimpse of oneself in repose. An unguarded moment, stripped of artifice, when one forgets to fool even oneself.
The House at Riverton, Kate Morton

I always thought insanity would be a dark, bitter feeling, but it is drenching and delicious if you really roll around in it.
The Help, Kathryn Stockett

“I say, you do have a heart!’
Sometimes,’ he replied. ‘When I have the time.”
Around the World in Eight Days, Jules Verne

I had to touch you with my hands, I had to taste you with my tongue; one can’t love and do nothing.
The End of the Affair, Graham Greene

To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else’s heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell.
Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez

He thought her beautiful, believed her impeccably wise; dreamed of her, wrote poems to her, which, ignoring the subject, she corrected in red ink…
Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf

That is such crap. How dare you be so fraudulently flirtatious, cowardly and dysfunctional? I am not interested in emotional fuckwittage. Goodbye.
Bridget Jones’s Diary, Helen Fielding

"I was happy but happy is an adult word. You don’t have to ask a child about happy, you see it. They are or they are not. Adults talk about being happy because largely they are not. Talking about it is the same as trying to catch the wind. Much easier to let it blow all over you."
Jeanette Winterson

"I have a theory that every time you make an important choice, the part of you left behind continues the other life you could have had."
Jeanette Winterson (Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit)

…I feel sorry for anyone who can look at you and not see beauty and kindness and joy and life. Even if that person is you. So pity the man or woman who can stare you in the face and watch you hold your heart in your hand and still turn away. Pity them. They must blame the sunshine for pollen instead of thanking it for warmth. What a horrible way to live. I’ve been there. It is miserable. I will fight until there is blood and silence for my right to happiness and joy and laughter and enough tension to keep me motivated. And I have no problem, closing the gate and the door and the windows and the heart to anyone who keeps me from it. True fact.
— Bassey Ikpi

"And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long."
Sylvia Plath
"I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it."
Sylvia Plath
I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as good as I give -Sylvia Plath

Sometimes I wonder if I just faked our whole relationship…if he ever really did love me….if I ever really did know the feeling of how it felt to be loved and to love….maybe I just made the whole thing out to be more than it was. Because he’s with her now. He’s been with her for 4 months. and my dreams and hopes of love are suddenly shattered….because I know now that when I call out his name at night….he’s calling out hers….and there’s nothing in the world that hurts more….than knowing the only man I’ve ever loved….is out there loving someone else.
— JoAnne Golden

“ Anne Sexton sometimes seemed like a woman without skin. She felt everything so intensely, had so little capacity to filter out pain that everyday events often seemed unbearable to her. Paradoxically it is also that skinlessness which makes a poet. One must have the gift of language, but even a great gift is useless without the other curse: the eyes that see so sharply they often want to close.
— Erica Jong

Memories will rust and erode into lists Of all that you gave me A blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest The best parts of lonely
— The Weakerthans

Some people I’ve loved with my whole heart. Some people I’ve had to push out of my mind. I have to be ok with both. I have to be ok with these people that cycle in and cycle out. I have to be ok with being cycled in and then cycled out. Hurtful as it may seem to feel like you don’t matter to someone that matters to you. You do matter. Trust the space between the silence.
— Bassey Ikpi

I want to burn, even if I break myself. I live only for ecstasy. Nothing else effects me. Small doses, moderate loves— all these leave me cold. I like extravagance, heat… sexuality which bursts the thermometer! I am neurotic, perverted, destructive, fiery, dangerous— lava, inflammable, unrestrained. I feel like a jungle animal who is escaping captivity.

“There is nothing else than now. There is neither yesterday, certainly, nor is there any tomorrow. How old must you be before you know that? There is only now, and if now is only two days, then two days is your life and everything in it will be in proportion. This is how you live a life in two days. And if you stop complaining and asking for what you never will get, you will have a good life. A good life is not measured by any biblical span.”
—
Ernest Hemingway

Whatever happened to me in my life, happened to me as a writer of plays. I’d fall in love, or fall in lust. And at the height of my passion, I would think, ‘So this is how it feels,’ and I would tie it up in pretty words. I watched my life as if it were happening to someone else.
— The Sandman: The Wake, Neil Gaiman

He liked sex to be something that just happened, half in his head, half out of it. Something sudden and dirty and powerful.
— Mouse, Neil Gaiman

“There will be days when you’ll look at your hands and you’ll want to take something and smash every bone in them, because they’ll be taunting you with what they could do, if you found a chance for them to do it, and you can’t find that chance, and you can’t bear your living body because it has failed you somewhere.There will be days when a bus driver will snap at you as you enter a bus, and he’ll be only asking you for a dime, but that won’t be what you hear, you’ll hear that you’re nothing, that he’s laughing at you, that it’s written on your forehead, that thing they hate you for.”
—
Ayn Rand

When eyelids want to close

2010-06-23T12:13:00.000-07:00

2010-06-15T16:10:00.001-07:00

“Recently, I heard someone say that great literature was their religion. I know what they mean. There can be poetry and prose that capture states of being so transparently and unforgettably that any added theology or philosophy could only detract. Take “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Often, when I contemplate what the Buddhists call “dhukkha,” the Pali word for the suffering or, better, that unsatisfactory, incomplete, pining quality that is built in to existence, I think of that great self-made, driven American character Jay Gatsby, looking across Long Island Sound, at the green light on dock of his beautiful love, Daisy Buchanan. No matter what Gatsby has achieved or will ever achieve–and he has amassed great riches by hook or by crook–Daisy will always be unattainable. Poor Gatsby can’t ever see through the gorgeous veil of illusion. “The Great Gatsby” has been called The Great American Novel. I think of it as the Great American Sutta (in Pali, sutra in Sanskrit) on the suffering that comes from craving…”

— an excerpt from Tracy Cochran

KICK PUSH

2010-06-03T19:15:00.000-07:00

new jacket!

2010-05-25T19:23:00.001-07:00

compiling all my sticky notes

2010-05-23T16:03:00.000-07:00

kingdom of crooked mirrors
the suicide brothers

Remember, people will judge you by your actions, not your intentions. You may have a heart of gold — but so does a hard-boiled egg."
Unknown

“ Don’t let us forget that the causes of human actions are usually immeasurably more complex and varied than our subsequent explanations of them.
— Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Idiot

"I thought: This is the fear: I have lost something important, and I cannot find it, and I need it. It is fear like if someone lost his glasses and went to the glasses store and they told him that the world had run out of glasses and he would just have to do without."
John Green, Looking for Alaska

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.

“ To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."
Bessie Anderson Stanley

“He had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

I can’t sleep at night because I feel that there is so much to do and fix and change in the world, and I wonder every day if I am making a difference and if I will ever express the greatness within me, or if I will remain forever paralyzed by muddled madness inside my head. I’ve wept on every birthday I’ve ever had because life is huge and fleeting and I hate certain people and certain shoes and I feel that life is terribly unfair and sometimes beautiful and wonderful and extraordinary but also numbing and horrifying and insurmountable and I hate myself a lot of the time. The rest of the time I adore myself and I adore my life in this city and in this world we live in. This huge and wondrous, bewildering, brilliant, horrible world.

becoming more a fan of long term goals....

socks with marie ann shoes, shorts and tights, big cardigan. scarf around buttonup collar

loafers red lipstick, big braid!

"Who knows what you mean to me now? You’re like the moon - always there, always on my mind. And you’re so damn beautiful. But maybe, you’re just a big rock floating in space. Maybe you’re not that mystical. Maybe you’re nothing, but dust. Maybe not the magic kind. Maybe. And maybe I have no fucking clue where I am going with this, and I just need to sort it out. But the image of your eyes clouds my own vision of where I stand and where I am heading. And I am just lost."
Unknown

an enterprise destined to dull the shine

"Take my hands,” she said. I took them. She squeezed. And her doing that, making that simple gesture, offered me more intimacy than I’d felt in… I don’t even know how long. Never, maybe. It’s hard to explain, my hands in hers. It wasn’t really sexual- had nothing to do with the semen I’d split watching that hanging light rock and sway above my head. But… It wasn’t completely non sexual, either. Like I said, I don’t know how to describe it, except to say it was, what? powerful, i guess. hopeful."
The hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb

"I have a simple philosophy: Fill what’s empty. Empty what’s full. Scratch where it itches."
Alice Roosevelt Longworth

“ I am the girl who is lost in space, the girl who is disappearing always, forever fading away and receding farther and farther into the background. Just like the Chesire cat, someday I will suddenly leave, but the artificial warmth of my smile, that phoney, clownish curve, the kind you see on miserably sad people and villains in Disney movies, will remain behind as an ironic remnant. I am the girl you see in the photograph from some party some place or some picnic in the park, the one who looks to very vibrant and you look at the picture again, I want to assure you, I will no longer be there. I will be erased from history, like a traitor in the Soviet Union. Because with everyday that goes by, I feel myself becoming more and more invisible, getting covered over more thickly and darkness, coats and coats of darkness that are going to suffocate me in the sweltering heat of the summer that I can’t even see anymore, even though I can feel it burn."
prozac nation

“It’s very important to experience the complete negation of yourself which brings you to the other side of nothing. You go to the other side of nothing and you are held by the hand of the absolute. You see yourself as the absolute so you have no more insistence of self. You can speak of the self as no self when you sit in the absolute. Your sitting still is like a person who just shot an arrow. A moment later the result is there. What you know, the only thing you know is the sense that the arrow is moving all right. It has left your realm but you sense it is running well. The stillness in sitting is like that. You flip to the other side of nothing, where you discover everyone is waiting for you already.”
— Kobun Chino

SAUDADE
"once more, with feeling"
"if you don't light my fire, then don't come around"

i want to re-learn everything i once knew, every skill i once mastered and then lost to lack of use. i want to remember how load film, how to sew, how to drive a stick-shift, how to tell the temperature from cricket chirps. everything i knew about in second grade, about dinosaurs and types of clouds and the pilgrims and volcanoes, i want that knowledge back. i want back the memories caught up in photographs, i want the moments i thought i would never forget. every disposable camera entrusted to amateur hands, every memory of class field trips and playdates and recesses spent playing hopscotch and whispering secrets. i want to remember lyrics to songs i used to sing at the top of my lungs, to remember names and faces of friends who moved away, to reconnect with everyone i ever loved. i want back everything i’ve ever lost. everything i’ve ever known. everything i’ve needed.

प्रकाश के साथ मेरी आग आपका

"My point is, there are a lot of people in the world. No one ever sees everything the same way you do; it just doesn’t happen. So when you find one person who gets a couple of things, especially if they’re important ones, you might as well hold on to them."

Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn’t the world, it wasn’t the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don’t know, but it’s so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.
— Jonathan Safran Foer

http://waitingformagic.tumblr.com/ http://willowing.tumblr.com/ http://jifs.tumblr.com/ http://revived.tumblr.com/ http://what-katie-did.tumblr.com/ http://pirouettelove.tumblr.com/ http://bewitching.tumblr.com/ http://pinpricks.tumblr.com/ http://milkgirl.tumblr.com/ http://lovelybluepony.tumblr.com/ http://paleshades.tumblr.com/ http://funeral.tumblr.com/ http://lioncub.tumblr.com/ http://nativeplant.tumblr.com/ http://ohholyghost.tumblr.com/ http://youarebonbon.tumblr.com/ http://razzledazzlerose.tumblr.com/ http://suzywire.tumblr.com/ http://twosuns.tumblr.com/

here is the deepest secret nobody knows: (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart: i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
-ee cummings

I remember, in the eighties, when crack first hit the scene, hearing all kinds of horror stories about how if you smoked it even once, the memory of its unbelievable high would live on in your system forever, and you would thus never again be able to be content without it. I have no idea if this is true, but I will admit that it scared me off the drug. In the years since, I have sometimes found myself wondering if the same principle applies in other realms— if seeing a particularly astonishing shade of blue, for example, or letting a particularly potent person inside you, could alter you irrevocably, just ot have seen or felt it. In which case, how does one know when, or how, to refuse? How to recover? Bluets, Maggie Nelson

"Time is lost on me. It always has been. To me, the most sensible thing about time is that the clock is a perfect circle. I keep coming back here; back to this place, but on a different day and with a different set of eyes. I read an old journal this morning. Nearly by accident, but not exactly. It had been lying there in my closet waiting for a home after a recent unpacking. Before I retired it to the drawer where I retire things, I gave it one last look. A page from another life. Same person, different day, different set of eyes, lighter pressure on the pen. A page full of certainty and also full of questions. It’s always strange to read the things you’ve hoped for in the past because by now those hopes may be spoken for or gone, transformed or altogether forgotten. Like time, hope can be so senseless. It can carry us up mountains or lie us in the quicksand. But like time, hope is unstoppable, inevitable, and blind. Sometimes we travel fast, hurdling towards the unknown, sometimes the unknown comes hurdling towards us while we watch time standing still."
— Andrew McMahon

“One soul passes through the other, frail as smoke And utterly ignorant of the way it took.”
Sylvia Plath

I remember one morning getting up at dawn. There was such a sense of possibility. You know that feeling? And I remember thinking to myself that this is the beginning of happiness… this is where it starts and of course there will always be more. It never occurred to me that it wasn’t the beginning… it was happiness. It was the moment. Right then.
— The Hours (2002)

An old man said to his grandchildren, ‘Inside everyone are two fighting wolves. One wolf is generous and kind, but the other is deceitful and unkind.’ One of the children asked his grandfather, ‘Which wolf will win?’ The old man replied, ‘The one you feed.
- Native American proverb

F. Scott Fitzgerald
I remember riding in a taxi one afternoon between very tall buildings under a mauve and rosy sky;  I began to bawl because I had everything I wanted and knew I would never be so happy again.

"Secrets are my currency: I deal in them for a living. The secrets of desire, of what people really want, and of what they fear the most. The secrets of why love is difficult, sex complicated, living painful and death so close and yet placed far away. Why are pleasure and punishment closely related? How do our bodies speak? Why do we make ourselves ill? Why do you want to fail? Why is pleasure hard to bear?"

"They’re not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they’re destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? - - Carpe - - hear it? - - Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary."
Dead Poets Society

“You are not your body. You are not your emotions. You have emotions. You have thoughts as you have eggs for breakfast, but you are not the eggs, and you are not your emotions. You are as independent of your thoughts and emotions as you are of the bacon and eggs. You use the bacon and eggs in your physical composition, and you use your thoughts and emotions in your mental composition. Surely you do not identify with a piece of bacon? Then do not identify with your thoughts and emotions. When you set up barriers and doors, then you enclose emotions within you … as if you stored up tons of bacon in your refrigerator and then wondered why there was room for nothing else.”
— Jane Roberts, “The Seth Material”

"What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting: I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris, by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years; she's never taken another lover. I don't care, I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier."

"Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. And intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want."
— White Oleander

On a cool day where horizon stretched out beyond the sea, so much further than we could perceive, we stood together, immobile like statues overlooking a deep valley, where we made promises in whispers, alone on a forgotten beach, miles from any road, and any other human soul. We told ourselves that we’d never let go, and that we’d always remember kissing for the first ever time. Her body, much like that afternoon was brilliant and forgiving, and on that day, the sand was cool beneath our feet.
“I’m happy,” I said, as I reached for her hand, and our fingers interlocked.
“We’re happy,” Was her reply.
Later, as the sun set, we wrote our names in the sand, and as the earth turned us round the sun we were not aware of this fact. Only that the tide was coming in, and our names were washing out. That’s how I choose to remember her — us. It’s as if the tide that day took us both together down to the depths, and in the sea, is where we’ll always have each other.

It was right then that I started thinking about Thomas Jefferson, the Declaration of Independence and the part about our right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And I remember thinking: How did he know to put the pursuit part in there? That maybe happiness is something that we can only pursue. And maybe we can actually never have it, no matter what. How did he know that?
— ‘The Pursuit Of Happiness’ (2006)

I thought for a second that around the bend of the road there would be light and clarity and you’d be there (…) I just had a moment where I thought something like that is possible, that we would turn around a bend on the road and there would be an explanation, and an end, and we would say ‘Of course, of course, it was leading up to this all the while. ’ Something like that you know? All I ever wanted was to know what to do (…) I’ve been paralyzed by the quiet, and for a moment something spoke to me, and we came here, and intermittently there were answers. intermittently there was a chorus and they sang to us and pointing, and were watching and approving but just as often, there was silence, and we stood blinking under the sun, or under the black sky, and we had to think of what to do next.
— Dave Eggers, ‘You Should Know Our Velocity’

gregory alan isakov-master and a hound

people always think that happiness is a faraway thing,” thought Francie, “something complicated and hard to get. Yet, what little things can make it up; a place of shelter when it rains - a cup of strong hot coffee when you’re blue; for a man, a cigarette for contentment; a book to read when you’re alone - just to be with someone you love. Those things make happiness.
— Betty Smith, ‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn’

"Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don’t always like."
— Lemony Snicket

"sensual pleasures still occurred without the noisy apparatus of memory at once stealing them from the present—the infinite present of animals and children—and photostamping them on index cards to be cataloged, reviewed, summarized in typed syntax, and (most devastatingly) immediately compared to all that has been and all that will be. One scarcely witnesses the present before it is drowned out by the caterwauling of machine pistons, obscured by the soot from memorial combustion: it powers the mind, it clouds the sky.”

"Don’t you get it? She’s the house! She’s the plain white shutters, the sparkling glass windows, and the perfect white picket fence. She’s the ordinary stuff. But you… you’re the red door. And when people come by, yeah, sure, they see the house. But for some reason, they always end up looking at the door. It’s always in the corner of their eye. You can’t ignore a red door. And the house is nice, hell, the house is perfect. But then there’s that door. it’s almost painful to look at. You’re the door."
Chuck Palahnuik, Diary

"I never felt open in any way. I would never impulsively ring people and assume that they’d want to see me, or just go ‘round. I always had to sit down and think very hard before I knocked on anybody’s door. And consequently, I never really knocked."
Morrissey

"I want people to walk around delusional about how great they can be - and then fight so hard for it every day that the lie becomes the truth."
— Lady Gaga

"I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion."
Jack Kerouac

"At least I carpe’d that one diem."
Paper Towns, John Green

One of my philosophy professors lectured wildly about love once, yelling: “When you’re in love with someone, that person is the lighthouse of your universe.” (I scrawled it inside Science and Poetry in pencil - lighthouse of your universe - as if I would ever forget that phrase.) He was a delightful caricature of his position. I could swear he literally tore his hair out while howling at us. He went on, “Nothing means as much without that person.” One of the men in the class repeated, incredulous, half-laughing “so you’re saying you can’t enjoy, like, a vacation, without someone if you’re really in love with them?” “Of course not.” the professor replied. “Not completely. You recognize beauty, but beauty means less if they don’t witness it with you. Beauty is less. You see something sublime and your first thought is that they should be there with you. It’s not as good without them. They illuminate. They make everything more.
— Author Unknown

"i like to see people reunited, maybe that’s a silly thing, but what can i say, i like to see people run to each other, i like the kissing and the crying, i like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can’t tell fast enough, the ears that aren’t big enough, the eyes that can’t take in all of the change, i like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone, i sit on the side with a coffee and write in my daybook, i examine the flight schedules that i’ve already memorized, i observe, i write, i try not to remember the life that i didn’t want to lose but lost and have to remember, being here fills my heart with so much joy, even if the joy isn’t mine, and at the end of the day i fill the suitcase with old news."
jonathan safran foe

See I don’t think you’ve ever been treated. You’ve been lusted after, chased, given ultimatums, pinched, poked, prodded and partitioned. But, you’ve never been treated, taken out, treasured, toppled with flowers that flow over you while you sit in a chair where you’re comfortable, and content and I don’t know that you’ve been held and honored and hoped for. You’ve never been someone’s dream. You’ve had your pick, you’ve parties, playacted, and put off. But you’ve never been treated. Your fair white skin has never been touched like it deserves to be touched, that dare I say delicate skin deserved to be touch in such a sensual way that even Sophocles would do well to write you into a beautiful tragedy.
You’ve been trying, but have you ever been treated?

Suddenly, all at once, she knows, knows that he doesn’t understand her, that he never will, that he lacks the power to understand such perverseness. And that he can never move fast enough to catch her.
from The Lover by Marguerite Duras ☆

"“Sometimes people having breakdown problems can look very beautiful because they have that fragile something to the way they move or walk. They put on a mood that makes them more beautiful.”"
Andy Warhol

"I’m a far more flawed human being than you realize. My sickness is a lot worse than you think: it has deeper roots. And that’s why I want you to go on ahead of me if you can. Don’t wait for me. Sleep with other girls if you want to. Don’t let thoughts of me hold you back. Just do what you want to do. Otherwise, I might end up taking you with me, and that is the one thing I don’t want to do. I don’t want to interfere with your life. I don’t want to interfere with anybody’s life. Like I said before, I want you to come to see me every once in a while, and always remember me. That’s all I want."
Haruki Murakami

If you tuck the name of a loved one under your tongue too long without speaking it it becomes blood sigh the little sucked-in breath of air hiding everywhere beneath your words.  No one sees the fuel that feeds you

"There’s one sad truth in life I’ve found, while journeying east and west - The only folks we really wound are those we love the best. We flatter those we scarcely know, we please the fleeting guest, and deal full many a thoughtless blow to those who love us best."
Ella Wheeler Wilcox

But, like ivy, we grow where there is room for us. She seemed to have room for me; she never turned away in the pauses that allow for turning away. She never inquired, but she never recoiled, either. This is a quality that I look for in a person, not recoiling. Some people need a red carpet rolled out in front of them in order to walk into friendship. They can’t see the tiny outstretched hands all around them, everywhere, like leaves on tree

"Be stoic when necessary & write—you have seen a lot, felt deeply, & your problems are universal enough to be made meaningful—WRITE."
Plath, April 1956

When I was a girl my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog followed a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calendar that showed the wrong month. I cried over it … I spent my life learning to feel less.
— Jonathan Safran Foer, ‘Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close’

It seems only yesterday that I used to believe there was nothing under my skin but light. If you cut me I would shine. But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life, I skin my knees. I bleed.
— Billy Collins

"No matter how careful you are, there’s going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn’t experience it all. There’s that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should’ve been paying attention."

“I imagine the feelings of two people meeting again after many years. In the past they spent some time together, and therefore they think they are linked by the same experience, the same recollections. The same recollections? That’s where the misunderstanding starts: they don’t have the same recollections; each of them retains two or three small scenes from the past, but each has his own; their recollections are not similar; they don’t intersect; and even in terms of quantity they are not comparable: one person remembers the other more than he is remembered; first because memory capacity varies among individuals, but also (this is more painful to admit) because they don’t hold the same importance for each other.”
— Ignorance, by Milan Kundera

"In the last few days, you’ve made me feel alive. You made me feel beautiful and intelligent and wanted, and no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to tell you how much that’s meant to me."

"Maybe it’s because you’re one of those people that believes that sometimes, the most reckless thing you can do with your heart, is not being reckless with it."

Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust’
with a buzz in our ears we play endlessly

"i would face him, & say simply: i am sad that you are not strong, & do not swim & sail & ski, but you have a strong soul, & i will believe in you & make you invincible on this earth. yes, i have that power. most women do, to one degree or another."
cambridge notes // sylvia plath.

"And I thought that all those little kids are going to grow up someday. And all of those little kids are going to do the things that we do. And they will all kiss someone someday. But for now, sledding is enough. I think it would be great if sledding were always enough, but it isn’t."
— The Perks of Being a Wallflower

What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are - underneath the year that makes you eleven. Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three. Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old is.
—
Sandra Cisneros, ‘Eleven’

“God, how we get our fingers in each other’s clay. That’s friendship, each playing the potter to see what shapes we can make of the other.”

"Generally by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you’re real, you can’t be ugly, except to the people who don’t understand."

Day dreaming about hair possibilities

2010-05-23T15:53:00.000-07:00

2010-05-23T12:18:00.000-07:00

2010-05-23T11:06:00.001-07:00

People are so weird. One day, out of nowhere, they figure they feel something for somebody, and off they go.

I have to remind myself to one of the few lines that my dad repeated to me. He always said: “You cannot trust people. They go to sleep, wake up the next morning, and they change their minds. It’s not that they didn’t mean what they said the night before -they did mean it, but they’ve changed their minds since, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

I find it terrifying that people change. I find it terrifying that I change. And I suppose the most frightening aspect of change is that it allows both improvement and decline, and you can only tell which one was happening at the time from hindsight -if you can ever tell, at all. Because most changes are subtle, and you cannot even tell while they are happening and even after they are complete, they leave you nothing but the bare fact that the changes came and conquered something. There is no use in trying to fight them or in trying to revert them.

2010-05-23T11:03:00.001-07:00

I’ve discovered that you can’t be constantly worried about what the people you care about the most do or what they think about you; because if you do, your life becomes less than a life. It becomes merely an attempt to cope.

2010-05-23T11:02:00.001-07:00

Do you know the feeling when you let something float by because you think it would be better for the world if you didn’t get what you wanted so bad? If you love something, give it away, right? You shred it to pieces, let it float down the river, and then shed a single tear. “It’s all good,” you tell yourself. “If I don’t see the pieces becoming whole ever again, it’s not my fault that life played out this way.” But then you always wander what would have happened if you wouldn’t have torn it apart.

New earrings

2010-05-22T11:25:00.000-07:00

Borderline

2010-05-18T13:22:00.001-07:00

2010-05-18T10:38:00.001-07:00

"Before you speak, ask yourself: Is it kind? Is it true? Does it improve the silence?"

2010-05-18T10:34:00.000-07:00

I put my hand on him. Touching him was always so important to me. It was something I lived for. I could never explain why. Little, nothing touches. My fingers against his shoulder. The outsides of our thighs touching as we squeezed together on the bus. I couldn’t explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds if thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love? Why does anyone ever make love?"
Jonathan Safran Foer

2010-05-18T10:28:00.000-07:00

Because this is what you do. Get up. Blame the liquor for the heaviness. Call in late to work, go to the couch because the bed is too empty. Watch people scream about love on Jerry Springer, count the ways it could be worse. It could be last week when the missing got so big you wrote him a letter and sent it. It could be yesterday, no work to go to, whole day looming. It could be last month or the month before, when you still thought maybe. Still carried plans around with you like talismans. You could have kissed him last night. Could have gone home with him, given in, cried after, softly, face to the wall, his heavy arm around you, hand on your stomach, rubbing. Shower. Remember your body. Water hotter than you can stand. Sit on the shower floor. The word devastated ringing the tub. Buildings collapsed into themselves. Ribs caving toward the spine. Recite the strongest poem you know. A spell against the lonely that gets you in crowds and on three hours’ sleep. Wonder where the gods are now. Get up. Because death is not an alternative. Because this is what you do. Air like soup, move. Door, hallway, room, pants, socks, shoes. Sweater. Coat. Cold. Wish you were a bird. Remember you are not you, now. You are you a year from now. How does that woman walk?

2010-05-17T13:17:00.001-07:00

"How we need that security! How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest & trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into. Maybe I do need a man. One sure thing, I haven’t met him yet."
The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

hey, you

2010-05-16T21:23:00.001-07:00

Went camping last night and enjoyed a few moments on complete solitude. Larrabee was amazing, but our little island was all i needed. Now i'm tired, bitten, groggy, and not wanting to do much of anything (but that's physically impossibly for me). Although, i'm starting a new blog soon. Keep on the look out. New haircut or style in need. possibly bangs in the coming days, and someone needs to teach me the subtle smokey eye. i'm being serious.

the shot heard around the world

2010-05-03T21:05:00.000-07:00

2010-04-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

nola nola nola

2010-04-28T07:47:00.000-07:00

I was shown excellence too quickly, too early, introduced to a love that made me who i am, what i am, shown through eyes of the devil i see too much because of it. My downfall isn't my fear, for that is something that keeps me upright with my decisions--but the eversucceeding closemindedness and need for something more. Maybe that's not a bad thing, you know? To want more that intended, needed, but maybe it is. The fact that i can't go a day without routine scares me, "i must get this done" eats me up and slows me down. Enchant me, or something. Show me you're able to be something without me, you know? That'll scare me the most.

I think what i want is something. Not someone. An irrevocable feeling that cannot and will not be replaced. What if i can never accomplish that again?

Maybe i don't need anyone.

2010-04-25T00:37:00.000-07:00

"I just want one person that I can rescue. I want one person who needs me. Who can’t live without me."

— chuck palahniuk

2010-04-24T16:03:00.001-07:00

Poppies
Mary Oliver

The poppies send up their
orange flares; swaying
in the wind, their congregations
are a levitation

of bright dust, of thin
and lacy leaves.
There isn't a place
in this world that doesn't

sooner or later drown
in the indigos of darkness,
but now, for a while,
the roughage

shines like a miracle
as it floats above everything
with its yellow hair.
Of course nothing stops the cold,

black, curved blade
from hooking forward—
of course
loss is the great lesson.

But I also say this: that light
is an invitation
to happiness,
and that happiness,

when it's done right,
is a kind of holiness,
palpable and redemptive.
Inside the bright fields,

touched by their rough and spongy gold,
I am washed and washed
in the river
of earthly delight—

and what are you going to do—
what can you do
about it—
deep, blue night?

2010-04-24T16:02:00.001-07:00

Does my name sting your tongue? Now does it beg?

2010-04-23T15:18:00.001-07:00

"Whenever there is a mirror around, it is almost impossible not to take a look at yourself. Even though we all know what we look like, we all like just to look at our reflections, if only to see how we’re doing."

— Lemony Snicket

2010-04-23T12:10:00.001-07:00

“Light from a cake is such a great light. We should just live in cake light.”

~ Claire Fisher, Six Feet Under

2010-04-23T11:59:00.001-07:00

I used to pray a God was listening
I used to make my parents proud
I was the glue that kept my friends together
Now they don’t talk and we don’t go out

I used to know the name of every person I kissed
Now I made this bed and I can’t fall asleep in it

2010-04-21T13:42:00.001-07:00

"Well, that is what i became, for a while. i really cruelly wounded several people here, desperately, because i wanted to get back to that normal world and live and love in it. Well, i couldn't, and i hated them for showing me that."-Sylvia Plath

2010-04-21T13:40:00.000-07:00

"Let me not be desperate and throw away my honor for want of solace; let me not hide in drinking and lacerating myself on strange men; let me not be weak and tell others how bleeding i am internally; how day by day by day it drips and gathers, and congeals. i am still young." -Sylvia Plath

2010-04-21T13:39:00.001-07:00

"Please let him come, and give me the resilience and guts to make him respect me, be interested, and not to throw myself at him with loudness r hysterical yelling; calmly, gently, easy baby, easy."-Sylvia Plath

2010-04-19T20:05:00.001-07:00

Please swallow your pride
If I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs
That you don't let show

2010-04-15T16:59:00.001-07:00

“ She had fallen in love so many times that she began to suspect she was not falling in love at all, but doing something much more ordinary."- Jonathan Safran Foer

2010-04-15T16:58:00.001-07:00

“ Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well and when you’re having sex with your next lover on this very floor they will also notice that you didn’t paint it very well and they will think less of you for it. And then you think, “Is that sentence too long?” and then you have to hold the contradictions of sobbing uncontrollably and wondering about grammar in your head at the same time." -Richard Siken

2010-04-15T16:21:00.001-07:00

“ I like to be vital and strong and expressive, and I think thats more significant than being safe and pretty."- Juliette Lewis

2010-04-15T16:20:00.001-07:00

Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years. And you’ll never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create. Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected, to make you feel whole, to make you feel loved. And the truth is I’m so angry and the truth is I’m so fucking sad, and the truth is I’ve been so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long have been pretending I’m OK, just to get along, just for, I don’t know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own, and their own is too overwhelming to allow them to listen to or care about mine. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.

2010-04-15T16:16:00.001-07:00

“ To love and to be loved
Let’s just hope that is enough"

2010-04-15T15:51:00.001-07:00

“ He’s always asking: ‘Is that new? I haven’t seen that before.’ It’s like, Why don’t you mind your own business? Solve world hunger. Get out of my closet."
Michelle Obama

2010-04-15T15:44:00.000-07:00

“ Touch comes before sight, before speech. It is the first language and the last, and it always tells the truth."

2010-04-14T20:31:00.001-07:00

“ The weirder you’re going to behave, the more normal you should look. It works in reverse, too. When I see a kid with three or four rings in his nose, I know there is absolutely nothing extraordinary about that person."

2010-04-14T20:15:00.001-07:00

“ I loved you on this day. I love this memory."

2010-04-14T19:07:00.001-07:00

“ Later on, when I tried to imagine how I might have ruined things, that would occur to me - that I’d so rarely resisted, that I hadn’t made it hard enough for him. Maybe he felt disappointed. Maybe it was like gathering your strength and hurling your body against a door you believe to be locked, and then the door opens easily - it wasn’t locked at at all - and you’re standing looking into the room, trying to remember what it was you thought you wanted. “Prep” by Curtis Sittenfeld

2010-04-14T18:49:00.001-07:00

“ The stranger says there are no more couches and he will have to
sleep in your bed. You try to warn him, you tell him
you will want to get inside him, and ruin him,
but he doesn’t listen.
You do this, you do. You take the things you love
and tear them apart
or you pin them down with your body and pretend they’re yours.
So, you kiss him, and he doesn’t move, he doesn’t
pull away, and you keep on kissing him. And he hasn’t moved,
he’s frozen, and you’ve kissed him, and he’ll never
forgive you, and maybe now he’ll never leave you alone. From “A Primer For the Small Weird Loves” by Richard Siken

2010-04-14T18:47:00.001-07:00

“ For Woolf, getting lost was not a matter of geography so much as identity, a passionate desire, even an urgent need, to become no one and anyone, to shake off the shackles that remind you who you are, who others think you are. This dissolution of identity is familiar to travelers in foreign places and remote fastnesses, but Woolf, with her acute perception of the nuances of consciousness, could find it in a stroll down the street, a moment’s solitude in an armchair. Rebecca Solnit in “A Field Guide to Getting Lost

2010-04-14T18:44:00.001-07:00

“ There are two kinds of people in the world. Those who walk into a room and say, “There you are” and those who say, “Here I am”.

2010-04-14T16:14:00.001-07:00

There are only so many times that you can utter ‘It does not hurt’ before it begins to hurt even more than the hurt. You become enlightened of the feeling of feeling hurt, which is worse, I am certain, than the existent hurt.- Jonathan Safran Foer

2010-04-14T15:32:00.000-07:00

I needed so much to have nothing to touch - I’ve always been greedy that way.

2010-04-14T15:20:00.001-07:00

It ain’t no sin, to take off your skin and dance around in your bones.

I can't wait for summer

2010-04-09T10:18:00.000-07:00

Last night she said

2010-04-06T12:07:00.002-07:00

So, i currently have changed my major to either fashion merch. or fashion forecasting. I have to do this for the rest of my life, if it kills me. I want to style people for the rest of my life and look at rooms and rooms filled with lovely racks of pieces of wonderful material for me to work with.

The closet is my palet, the mannequin, my canvas.
I can't wait to start doing my inspiration board. Where to go next- i don't know. I want a wingman! Be my partner in crime?

2010-04-06T12:07:00.001-07:00

Come on listen to what I say
Ive got some secrets thatll make you stay
I just want to turn you down
I just want a turn you around
You aint never had nothin I wanted but
I want it all, I just cant figure out
Nothing.

Where is home?

2010-03-29T15:58:00.000-07:00

After long days in capitol hill with one my favorite people, i couldn't help but feel like i was leaving something behind or missing something when i left. Saudade- the definition of it means the vague feeling that something that was never there, is missing. What a scary feeling. To never get over something you don't know what.

2010-03-22T22:52:00.000-07:00

yOU HAVE THE SAME RELATIONSHIP WITH EVERYONE YOU PUT IN YOUR LIFE. I THINK THAT'S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ME AND ALOT OF THE PEOPLE I INVOLVE MYSELF WITH. I TREAT EACH AND EVERY INDIVIDUAL DIFFERENTLY. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM ARE DIFFERENT AND NOTHING IS GENERIC BRAND WHEN IT COMES WITH FRIENDSHIPS.

2010-03-15T13:00:00.001-07:00

“her body barely visible, as bleach-white as the bed sheets”

2010-03-12T12:42:00.001-08:00

“I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it.”

Maya Angelou

2010-03-11T13:33:00.001-08:00

even if we spoke the same words
would we still return as friends
even if its simple from the start
we will give the pieces of the heart
and when there is nothing left to pretend
we will know its coming to an end

2010-03-11T02:01:00.001-08:00

You have no trace of me on your walls, your music, your brain. It makes me sick to think that i would still be able to sit with you on your bed, touch the side of your face with my thumb, push back your curls, lift your eyelashes, and tell you i was right. i was special. And how dare you love me less for it. I told you to be balanced but all i want is for you to be on my side of the weight. You'll always be with me, no matter what. That's just how well people are imprinted in my head. I wonder, somedays, if i'm a measley thought here and there in your busy life, in the midst of the drugs, through the hazy drunken nights and music driven lifestyle. I wonder if when you told me what you told me, it was a set line in a script from a horrible movie. Where i'd sit there and watch and yell "lIFE ISN'T LIKE THAT, PEOPLE ARE NEVER ABLE TO SAY THIS SORT OF STUFF IN REAL LIFE."

I was there, i was gone. You had your chance to make it right, and you chose otherwise. But hey, i don't need anybody that doesn't need me.

Remember that night when we stood in front of my car and you told me what you thought love was? When you went on to tell me how i was 'comfortable' and you couldn't believe i was taking off without you.

Look who was the one running.

2010-03-09T14:33:00.001-08:00

Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you’re really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I’ve got a few missing. It’s ok though, because I’ve got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I meet someone who’s an 8-color type.. I’m like, “hey girl, magenta!” and she’s like, “oh, you mean purple!” and she goes off on her purple thing, and I’m like, “no - I want magenta!

2010-03-09T01:48:00.001-08:00

“ Lucky charms are like vampires of breakfast cereal, they’re magical, they’re delicious, they’re a little bit dangerous and bad for you, they initially make you feel great but then over time you realize that maybe your relationship with lucky charms is just a little bit unhealthy and then you start to think maybe i don’t want to be in a long-term relationship with a breakfast cereal that tastes delicious but damages my health. But then the lucky charms gets all stalker on you and for some reason you kind of like that, it makes you feel special, so yeah you spend your life with lucky charms. That’s awesome, that’s a great way to get diabetes."

2010-03-09T01:37:00.000-08:00

Maybe it’s more like you said before, all of us being cracked open. Like, each of us starts out as a watertight vessel. And these things happen - these people leave us, or don’t love us, or don’t get us, or we don’t get them, and we lose and fail and hurt one another. And the vessel starts to crack open in places. And I mean, yeah, once the vessel cracks open, the end becomes inevitable. But there is all this time between when the cracks start to open up and when we finally fall apart. And its only in that time that we can see one another, because we see out of ourselves through our cracks and into others through theirs.

2010-03-09T01:17:00.001-08:00

“ There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me. I put my hand on him. Touching him was always so important to me. It was something I lived for. My fingers against his shoulder. The outsides of our thighs touching as we squeezed together on the bus. I couldn’t explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?"

2010-03-09T00:58:00.001-08:00

“ Some artists want your money so they can buy Range Rovers and diamond bracelets, but I don’t care about that kind of stuff. I want your soul…"
— Lady Gaga

2010-03-09T00:56:00.001-08:00

“ Hell, I am young. I am free. My teeth are clean. The sun shines. To hell with everything else"
— Stephen Fry

2010-03-09T00:55:00.001-08:00

“ You say that I choose sadness, that it never once has chosen me. Maybe you’re right."
— Rilo Kiley

2010-03-09T00:43:00.000-08:00

“ When you’re a kid, they tell you it’s all, ‘grow up, get a job, get married, get a house, have a kid’, and that’s it. But the truth is, the world is so much stranger than that. It’s so much darker. And so much madder. And so much better."

2010-03-09T00:29:00.001-08:00

“ I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary."
— Margaret Atwood

LET DOWN YOUR HAIR

2010-03-08T12:48:00.000-08:00

2010-03-01T21:26:00.001-08:00

it's just like the love
-the one that's never been enough.

2010-02-25T17:05:00.000-08:00

You think standing in front of me and disappearing is somehow better than just walking away. I know it’s not about me being enough… but I still wish I was.

2010-02-25T16:59:00.001-08:00

I gave up sleep just to find your name,
you stayed home, I should have done the same.

2010-02-24T10:44:00.001-08:00

"And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted — wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don’t look at me. If you don’t, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me."

2010-02-24T03:20:00.000-08:00

Maybe I'll blow you, Whatever kind of kisses you want.

2010-02-24T03:13:00.001-08:00

Did you expect it all to stop at the wave of your hand? Like the sun is just going to drop if it's night you deman

2010-02-24T03:11:00.001-08:00

The problem with you, kid, is you can't say no. You can't take a little nibble, you got to lick the bowl.

2010-02-24T03:09:00.001-08:00

We're at our best when it's from our hips, from our hips we don't give a shit.

2010-02-24T02:57:00.001-08:00

Sometimes you've just got to make it for yourself. Sometimes sugar, it just takes someone else.

2010-02-24T02:55:00.001-08:00

Yeah, the night's not over. You're not trying hard enough.

2010-02-24T02:50:00.001-08:00

Why are some girls so naive? He didn't unbutton your blouse to see a better view of your heart.

2010-02-24T02:48:00.001-08:00

'Cause I'm savin' mine up for a very, very special day
When I can fuck it all up in the most spectacular way

2010-02-23T18:31:00.001-08:00

"it was good to walk faceless & talk to myself again, to ask where i was going, & who i was, & to realize that i had no idea, that all i could tell you was my name, & not my heritage; my daily schedule for the next week, & not the reason for it; my plans for the summer, & not for the purpose i had whittled out for my life."
sylvia plath

2010-02-23T18:24:00.000-08:00

yes, i was infatuated with you; i am still. no one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. i cut you out because i couldn’t stand being a passing fancy. before i give my body, i must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. & you weren’t having any of those.

2010-02-23T14:12:00.001-08:00

2010-02-16T18:59:00.001-08:00

You know all their stories but none of their stories know you.

And you've felt all their pain but their pain has never bothered feeling you.

So you take their medicine. Even though you've had too much medicine.

2010-02-11T19:01:00.001-08:00

It’s often just enough to be with someone. I don’t need to touch them. Not even talk. A feeling passes between you both. You’re not alone.
— Marilyn Monroe

2010-02-11T18:46:00.001-08:00

I think there is something beautiful in revelling in sadness. The proof is how beautiful sad songs can be. So I don’t think being sad is to be avoided. It’s apathy and boredom you want to avoid. But feeling anything is good, I think. Maybe that’s sadistic of me.
— Joseph Gordon-Levitt

2010-02-11T16:04:00.001-08:00

I read, I go to the movies, listen to music — I am just the same as everyone else, only I am always looking for inspiration, looking to create. I am always searching, always on a quest for a beauty, for ideas and a muse to seduce me.
— John Galliano

2010-02-11T16:03:00.001-08:00

Seduction isn’t making someone do what they don’t want to do. Seduction is enticing someone into doing what they secretly want to do already.

2010-02-11T15:54:00.001-08:00

It is like if you ever taught kids how to swim. The most difficult thing is Goddam to understand that they will float, if they relax, if they hold their breath and relax, they will actually float. For most kids it is difficult to swim. They feel they are going to sink like a stone to the bottom of the lake.

2010-02-11T15:53:00.001-08:00

The only thing I can say to people is to realize that it’s nothing to do with you. It’s no indication of your worth as a human being. It’s just an indication of someone else’s weakness. They take advantage of you because you’re strong and pure and - it’s just so hard to understand and it’s so hard to go through. But the thing to understand is that it’s someone else’s problem, not yours.

2010-02-11T15:45:00.001-08:00

I never had a chemistry with normal, healthy souls, the best and greatest people I met, who changed my life and the way I felt, was the ones with unhealthy minds, people who struggled to hold on to life, outsiders, lost souls. I fell in love with them, a love that has nothing to do with the “love” in romantic Hollywood movies, it was a love between kindred spirits, noone other than those people appreciated holding someone’s hand that much, they gave without asking questions, without demanding a price, they were fallen angels, and I loved them.

2010-02-11T13:02:00.003-08:00

Love blurs your vision; but after it recedes, you can see more clearly than ever. It’s like the tide going out, revealing whatever’s been thrown away and sunk: broken bottles, old gloves, rusting pop cans, nibbled fishbodies, bones. This is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes, not knowing the future. The ruin you’ve made.
— Margaret Atwood

2010-02-11T13:02:00.001-08:00

I miss you already. I missed you even when I was with you. That’s been my problem. I miss what I already have, and I surround myself with things that are missing.
— Jonathan Safran Foe

2010-02-11T13:01:00.005-08:00

What a terrible mistake to let go of something wonderful for something real.

2010-02-11T13:01:00.003-08:00

Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn’t the world, it wasn’t the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don’t know, but it’s so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.
— Jonathan Safran Foer

2010-02-11T13:01:00.001-08:00

It’s pathetic how we can’t live with the things we can’t understand. How we need everything labeled and explained and deconstructed.
— Chuck Palahniuk

2010-02-11T13:00:00.004-08:00

It is no surprise to me that hardly anyone tells the truth about how they feel. The smart ones keep themselves to themselves for good reason. Why would you want to tell anyone anything that’s dear to you? Even when you like them and want nothing more than to be closer than close to them? It’s so painful to be next to someone you feel strongly about and know you can’t say the things you want to."

I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why, some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness. In reality those who satisfy me are those who simply allow me to live with my idea of them.
— Anaïs Nin

2010-02-11T13:00:00.003-08:00

Come for the week
you can sleep in my bed
and pass through my life
like a dream through my head.
It will, it will be easy. I’ll make it easy.

2010-02-11T13:00:00.001-08:00

If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character…Would you slow down? Or speed up?
— Chuck Palahniuk

2010-02-11T12:59:00.002-08:00

I’m the type who’d be happy not going anywhere as long as I was sure I knew exactly what was happening at the places I wasn’t going to. I’m the type who’d like to sit home and watch every party that I’m invited to on a monitor in my bedroom.
— Andy Warhol