" The golden wind of autumn / has scattered me everywhere. "
-Velimir Khlebnikov, from Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikov, Volume III:Selected Poems
(via violentwavesofemotion)
(via violentwavesofemotion)
friends: what do you want to do?
my brain: die
me @ my brain: we can’t say that. these people don’t understand casual existential despair
" The garden is about feeding your children, providing food for the tribe. It’s part of an urgent territorial drive that we can probably race back to animals storing food. It’s a competitive display mechanism, like having a prize bull, this greed for the best tomatoes and English tea roses; it’s about winning, about providing society of superior things, and about proving you have taste and good values and you work hard. And what a wonderful relief every so often to know who the enemy is—because in the garden, the enemy is everything: the aphids, the weather, time. And so you pour yourself into it, care so much, and see up close so much birth and growth and beauty and danger and triumph—and then everything dies anyway, right? But you just keep doing it. "
-Red Reznikov, OITNB Season 4 (Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott)
menstruation: happens
me, the curtain lifting, the fog clearing, comprehension dawning, the realization hitting me directly in the face as a montage of the past few days goes through my head: Ah
me, the curtain lifting, the fog clearing, comprehension dawning, the realization hitting me directly in the face as a montage of the past few days goes through my head: Ah
" Writers make love to whatever they need. "
-Anaïs Nin, Henry and June (via theclassicsreader)
