Some people underestimate how erotic it is to be understood.
This is all we need. Couple of smokes, a cup of coffee and a little bit of conversation. You and me and five bucks.
I’m not brave any more darling. I’m all broken. They’ve broken me.
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
sometimes I think the gods
deliberately keep pushing me
into the fire
just to hear me
yelp
a few good
lines.they just aren’t going to
let me retire
silk scarf about neck
giving lectures at
Yale.the gods need me to
entertain them.they must be terribly
bored with all
the othersand I am too.
and now my cigarette lighter
has gone dry.
I sit here
hopelessly
flicking it.this kind of fire
they can’t give
me.
Memories do not always soften with time; some grow edges like knives.
David Wong, This Book Is Full of Spiders
You know, I think you’ll be just… splendid!
(via osgiliaths)
(Source: icanread)
// Remembering by Rilke//
And you wait. You wait for the one thing
that will change your life,
make it more than it is—
something wonderful, exceptional,
stones awakening, depths opening to you.
In the dusky bookstalls
old books glimmer gold and brown.
You think of lands you journeyed through,
of paintings and a dress once worn
by a woman you never found again.
And suddenly you know: that was enough.
You rise and there appears before you
in all its longings and hesitations
the shape of what you lived.
She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, like when you’re swimming and you want to put your feet down on something solid, but the water’s deeper than you think and there’s nothing there.
Sometimes, however, this sense of isolation, like acid spilling out of a bottle, can unconsciously eat away at a person’s heart and dissolve it.
Erich Maria Remarque, Three Comrades
(Source: infiniteinfatuations)
Formost
this is
the
dirt road
not taken
