October 2011
September 2011
faoi:
how have you been
wheres your life going
where are you
i dont see you
anymore.
Tragedy writ short.
faoi:
If your love could fix
ingratiate
and mend
my sordid pain —I’d declare you the one
and call that particular mission
over and done withBut your love only reminds me
of reality and truth
and other painful things
I’m not ready for.Yet.
june and after: dyinginback: But you’ll find that nothing goes the way it’s supposed... →
juneandafter.tumblr.com
But you’ll find that nothing goes the way it’s supposed to; or, at least, the way you fantasized a thousand times over. You don’t get to be with the people that you want, or maybe you do but they never quite live up to the expectation. Because an expectation isn’t human. An…
“I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.”
—Franz Kafka (uminuscula)
i wish that we could give it a go
see if we could be something.
Occupy Wall Street: Union Square March and Arrests Photos →
publicintelligence.net
Photos taken on September 24, 2011 of march to Union Square and subsequent arrests.
I’M GOING THIS WEEKEND!!
“I acquired expensive habits and affected manners. I got a third-class degree and a first-class illusion: that I was a poet. But nothing could have been less poetic that my seeing-through-all boredom with life in general and with making a living in particular. I was too green to know that all cynicism masks a failure to cope— an impotence, in short; and that to despise all effort is the greatest effort of all. But I did absorb a small dose of one permanently useful thing, Oxford’s greatest gift to civilized life: Socratic honesty. It showed me, very intermittently, that it is not enough to revolt against one’s past. One day I was outrageously bitter among some friends about the Army; back in my own rooms later it suddenly struck me that just because I said with impunity things that would have apoplexed my dead father, I was still no less under his influence. The truth was I was not a cynic by nature, only by revolt. I had got away from what I hated, but I hadn’t found where I loved, and so I pretended that there was nowhere to love. Handsomely equipped to fail, I went out into the world.”
—John Fowles (via atomos)
