Tuesday, August 24, 2010

trainwrecks always make the front page.

there's something wrong with our hearts, when they beat cold they stand apart
in the black moonlight watch the seabirds fall. real love, it finds you somewhere with your back to it
you know, you know we belong by the stream into the dawn.
- real love, beach house

[laurynholmquist]

some silver mornings
i wake in surprise
to a whisper of golden hope -
a pale glance of a silken touch.
a ghosting breath. you.

i want to locate a bit of you, cradle it,
say: this, there is no word for this. - jeffrey mcdaniel.



Tuesday, August 17, 2010

we're all of us haunted and haunting.

love, it isn't safe. you give it a knife and watch it maim.
love, it isn't free you can buy it off.
- give it a knife, paul michel

[papertissue]

we dream down a world -
- an urban wasteland:
a fiberglass shell,
steel, some plastic.
we are living better:
tangled wires hanging
naked; walking, talking.
we live in rooms that
smell of strangers.
call them home.

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.
an 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.
- janet fitch, white oleander

Friday, August 13, 2010

everything is amazing and no one is happy.

i am starting to sense your location, in an old abandoned mansion in a countryside in england
spirits trapped inside the linens. you're feeling quite at home there,
also feeling somewhat lonely; no one sees you in your pixelated fishnets.
- location, freelance whales

[papertissue]

i sometimes dream
of disappearing.
i think, some nights
that i could only be happy,
as a particle, floating on air.
then, nobody could see me
in my shame of an ugly heart,
always misfit. some kind of dead.

a girl calls and asks, "does it hurt very much to die?"
well, sweetheart, i tell her, yes, but it hurts a lot more to keep living. - chuck palahniuk, survivor.