January 2012
29 posts
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What happens if you fall in love with a writer? →
karenfelloutofbedagain:
Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or make love at four in the afternoon. They might not sleep at all. Or they might...
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"Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver
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. Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the...
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“And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul,...”
– Sylvia Plath (via blua)
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Home:
where the heart and the cats are (and the snow!)
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“I found myself thinking about President William McKinley, the third American...”
– John Green (Looking for Alaska)
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homesick.
What ever happened to hotels? When did they become these clinical environments with sickening fluorescent lighting? Ugly, energy-saving lights permanently lit in the hallways and the lobby, with a nightwatch at the desk and security cameras, because heaven-forbid a patron steals or vandalizes the establishment. Hotels, unless on the more expensive end of the spectrum, have become so ugly and...
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wellalright:
do you ever feel like you’re dying and then realize that’s actually just what being alive feels like sometimes?
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flying.
Tomorrow, I board a plane. It’s probably going to take a 600 mg of motrin and a hydroxyzine to get me there, but then my mother and I will be off to Florida for the week.
How does anyone else not feel ungodly unstable the second the plane lifts from the earth, and wavers to find it’s air-footing? How can anyone trust a genuine stranger to fly them thousands of feet in the air (a...
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“… If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will...”
– Jonathan Safran Foer (Everything is Illuminated)
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“What a terrible thing it is to botch a farewell. I am a person who believes in...”
– Yann Martel
Yearling shenanigans
fuckyeahhorsesports:
December 2011
19 posts
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silent night.
There is something so satisfying in grooming a horse clean through the winter scruff, and the look of a stall after it’s been mucked out; when the aisle’s been swept down to bare cement, and flakes of hay have been distributed, and the horses turned out into the pastures for the night in their heavy blankets. Just squinting against the wind to watch the herd’s warm breath rising...
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“…she wants to know if I love her, that’s all anyone wants from...”
– Jonathan Safran Foer (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close)
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little things.
Sleep comes shallow in a cold bed, like there’s snow stuffed between the sheets. I rise heavy as ice, and early, a body composed of phantom limbs, shaking and unfeeling at dawn. A pull at the blinds finds the ground bare, like we’re at the bottom of an empty cupboard; just crumbs of snow. In my dreams, I tried to explain to you the abstractions of how the soul is a palimpsest, and that ...
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Last night
I dreamt of a great flood.
My brother was in a boat halfway across the river that now lapped against our front door, begging us to swim to him - to safety. My mother was already waist-deep in the muddy water and kept trying to coax me in after here. We needed to get out. The world was flooding. But I wouldn’t; there were dead things floating in the water’s current. Dead plants, dead...
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Drifter
You taste bitter, and restless; like black, 25-cent diner coffee, and menthol cigarettes bummed curbside, and six months of empty hostels in Mèxico. And you eat grapes still filmy with pesticides, and curse only in foreign tongues, and can never finish a novel, but will linger for hours on its final pages. And you look perpetually windswept, and keep photos in a suitcase under the sink, ...
November 2011
1 post
October 2011
5 posts
