Nº. 1 of  61

There's an art to everything

"I dreamt of making sense,
parts of speech caught up in sheets
and blankets, long strips of fabric
wrapped loosely around shoulders,
goblets, urns, cups with unmatched saucers.

You were there, and the past seemed important,
what was said, what was done,
feelings felt but maybe not expressed,
signs randomly connected
yet vital to what comes next...”

(Michael Broder, “Last Night”)

(Source: weheartit.com, via feellng)

upon which so many laws are based,
continues to consume everything.
regardless of what the gods say,
the present remains uninhabitable,
the past unforgiving of the harm it’s seen,
the future remains translucent
and unambiguous
in its desire to elude us.”

(Philip Schultz, “Afterwards”)

(Source: etsy.com)

Let there be footfall and car door. Let me
be finished with fire. Let
the man get on a plane for his morning
departure, erasing each reverie. Soon
there will be only daylight,
maybe a blue envelope, torn. Maybe bracelets
of color from the petunias. I will need
to know how to recover
the familiar, how to open the door
in the evening. How to again lock it.
Almost everything about me goes unspoken,
but commas and colons. I live with this
heart rate, multiple times, its direction,
its tempo: my 4/4 with acceleration, sometimes
tuned to an alternate signature. Think of Brubeck’s
“Take Five.” Those blocky chords were the result
of an accident—dead on arrival, they said,
after he smashed to the surf. Think how
he switched it around, made his hands
do what he wanted to hear, and forgive me
for the analogy. May I never
rush a surge for a better experience.
Every Sunday all over the country,
apologies gather. When I’m not in this
small cottage, unreacting, I cascade sound
and a few sentences from a cramped
room to whoever will listen. I know some
people think it is sinful to love such temptations,
but I stay with my face soft against
microphone, announcing my moral
directions. Sometimes, I’m convinced my blood
needs all those crossings. I’m not after
absolution. The man I love taught me to want
without lyrics. Remember I haven’t
gone anywhere. I’m in a thirsty way
sort of possessive. I shouldn’t show you this
side of myself. Try to remember I’m also praised
for my kindness. We each need to learn
to turn off some dreams so we can play
hours without creases.

(Lauren Camp, “Playback”)

Autumn finally arrived. And when it did, I came to a decision. Something had to give: I couldn’t keep on living like this.

—Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun (via quotes-shape-us)

(via risinglikethephoenix)

"Perfect posture, but you’re barely scraping by…

you’re barely scraping by.”

(Dashboard Confessional, “The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most”)

My heart is so tired.

—Markus Zusak, The Book Thief (via dhaworst)

(Source: larmoyante, via wisewordsandprettythings)

I felt like I was sort of disappearing. It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing everytime you crossed a road.

—J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (via theunquotables)

“‘I don’t know if I can face this. You know. The party and the ceremony, and then the hour after that, and the hour after that.’

'You don't have to go to the party. You don't have to go to the ceremony. You don't have to do anything at all.'

'But there are still the hours, aren't there? One and then another, and you get through that one and then, my god, there's another.'”

(Michael Cunningham, “The Hours”)

I wish you were here.
Autumn is the hardest season;
the leaves are all falling
and they’re falling like they’re falling in love with the ground,
and the trees are naked and lonely.
I keep trying to tell them
new leaves will come around in the spring,
but you can’t tell trees those things.
They’re like me, they just stand there
and don’t listen.
I wish you were here.

Photograph // Andrea Gibson (via expectimperfection)

(via takecaretiredsouls)

A restless gaze
chases shaky
telephone poles
with the hope that
you may be waiting at
the end of my search.

Noor Shirazie (via aestheticintrovert)


  • I don’t eat enough healthy things, I’m gonna buy this bag of grapes.
  • Hooray! What a nice little “unpacking my groceries” snack!
  • I can just feel the nutrients being absorbed into my organs. Healthy hair, population: me.
  • Ugh, I’m starving while dinner is cooking. Good thing I’m the kind of

"They say ‘have courage’

and I’m trying to—”


Nº. 1 of  61