The Latest

Dec 11, 2013 / 632 notes

(via sickmarla)

Oct 22, 2013 / 5 notes

"For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered. But for those of us who can’t readily accept the God formula, the big answers don’t remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command nor faith a dictum. I am my own god. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us."
Charles Bukowski

Oct 22, 2013 / 2 notes

"I want a soul mate who can sit me down, shut me up, tell me ten things I don’t already know, and make me laugh. I don’t care what you look like, just turn me on. And if you can do that, I will follow you on bloody stumps through the snow. I will nibble your mukluks with my own teeth. I will do your windows. I will care about your feelings. Just have something in there."
Henry Rollins

Jun 25, 2013 / 897 notes
Jan 2, 2013 / 5 notes

“I have tried to write Paradise

Do not move
Let the wind speak
that is paradise.

Let the Gods forgive what I
have made
Let those I love try to forgive
what I have made.”


― Ezra Pound

Dec 21, 2012 / 1,052 notes
Dec 10, 2012 / 18 notes

I have need of angels. Enough hell has swallowed me for too many years. But finally understand this—I have burned up one hundred thousand human lives already, from the strength of my pain.

by Antonin Artaud, Lettres à Génica Athanasiou

Dec 9, 2012 / 3 notes

Filled with rapture, his soul yearned for freedom, space, vastness. Over him the heavenly dome, full of quiet, shining stars, hung boundlessly. From the zenith to the horizon the still-dim Milky Way stretched its double strand. Night, fresh and quiet, almost unstirring, enveloped the earth. The white towers and golden domes of the church gleamed in the sapphire sky. The luxuriant autumn asleep till morning. The silence of the earth seemed to merge with the silence of the heavens and the mystery of the earth touched the mystery of the stars.

by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Dec 9, 2012 / 3 notes

I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we’re reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.”

by Franz Kafka

nearlya:

Joost Nieuwenburg, 
Two Surfaces in Contact,  In his performance, the artist walked across a platform raised by hundreds of wooden matches. As he moved gently across the platform, Nieuwenburg swiped the match heads with his foot to ignite a spectacular performance.
Dec 8, 2012 / 46 notes

nearlya:

Joost Nieuwenburg, Magnifying glass

Two Surfaces in Contact,  In his performance, the artist walked across a platform raised by hundreds of wooden matches. As he moved gently across the platform, Nieuwenburg swiped the match heads with his foot to ignite a spectacular performance.