January 2012
43 posts
December 2011
53 posts
“The most common form of despair is not being who you are.”
– Søren Kierkegaard (via whimsicalele)
Daniel
Tomorrow my lover/lover/lover will arrive on an airplane! His name is Daniel and he smells like spices and bread, if spices and bread were a man. My apartment is pretty small, and the walls are pink with eyes painted on them, and I have lace curtains and feathers on display. He will arrive with books and sweaters, food and, hopefully, a duvet for the bed, and he will exist here for a while until...
Fur Tree →
I made this website to promote wonder weirdo Canadian artists / poets / musicians. You’ll like it, babies.
1 tag
“The way to create art is to burn and destroy ordinary concepts and to substitute...”
– Charles Bukowski (via nirvikalpa) as per last nights psylocibin downloads.
“When I’m lonely for boys it’s their bodies I miss. I study their hands lifting...”
– Margaret Atwood, Cat’s Eye (via nirvikalpa)
“I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why, some people fill the...”
– Anaïs Nin (via nirvikalpa)
“The transformation of Mercurius, as prima materia, in the heated, sealed vessel...”
– Marie Von Franz (via lucifelle)
““You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you...”
–
“Rimbaud has always appealed to misfits and delinquents, who are very often...”
– John Ashberry (via nirvikalpa)
“Indeed one of the most important of our fundamental assumptions must be that the...”
– Hendrik Lorentz (via lucifelle)
“We passed the ice of pain,
And came to a dark ravine,
And there we sang with...”
– Theodore Roethke
“Nora, my faithful darling, my seet-eyed blackguard schoolgirl, be my whore, my mistress, as much as you like (my little frigging mistress! My little fucking whore!) you are always my beautiful wild flower of the hedges, my dark-blue rain-drenched flower.” -A letter from James Joyce to Nora Barnacle, Dublin 2 December 1909
“Watching television is like taking black spray paint to your third eye.”
– Bill Hicks (via talisman)
“For there is neither youth nor age - just the response of our eternal fluid form...”
– Almine (via lucifelle)
“Off that landspit of stony mouth-plugs,
Eyes rolled by white sticks,
Ears...”
– Medusa by Sylvia Plath
Witches are moon-birds, witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon.
—Amy Lowell
Dreaming sphincter.
my lover wrote this
cancertrustfund:
Dreaming sphincter. The city small peopleless trees shrivel to shriveled bones and buildings made of horse drip on plants like shadows so children escape ahead of us to seaweed shaped kingdoms, our souls the tumorous curious deli delicate colour like dragged dead...
