November 2010
1 post
Hello, followers and strangers. You can now find... →
August 2010
6 posts
July 2010
19 posts
3 tags
“I found a tidal wave begging to tear down the dawn.”
– Jack’s Mannequin
3 tags
1 tag
“i am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me....”
– anais nin
June 2010
33 posts
“The constellations tattoo your dreams on their backs.”
– the boy
2 tags
they have it, soul still wet and quivering with it. but then they sell it, their star, because they heard someone in a coffee shop once say that practicality is what made us crucify the son of a god, what saved us…didn’t it?
1 tag
“we are galaxies in people, it just seems so insulting that long dead green men...”
– Ladybird
“We could, you know. We can live any way we want. People take vows of poverty,...”
– Annie Dillard (via honeyhands)
3 tags
Barefoot babes with stubby fingers, stubby pencils, take turns dissecting the entrails of galaxies that bloom between their ears at night.
“Yes, he drowned. But he looked better underwater. The little sparkster fish and glowster plants all reached up toward him, like he was a floating sun. Maybe that’s where he belongs. Not here, worrying about rent and providing.”
“You...
3 tags
Passing through unconscious states
I am soul molting beneath stars who were going to be streetlights before deciding to change majors. I want to be a constellation-chaser, to rip apart continents dashing after skeletons of light. I want to be tides in love with the moon: perfect sense. But I am wind in passion with a tree, and it isn’t sensible at all.
hotelworlds asked: you're a writer.you write of beautiful things.keep it that way (:
1 tag
Someone
tell me a story, write me a letter, scribble for me, show me a song, something. I know that magic is sleeping in you.
“Writing is a socially acceptable form of getting naked in public”
– Paulo Coelho (via slowlybecoming) (via quote-book) (via sweetsassymolassygirl)
3 tags
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“Avoid the flourish. Do not be afraid to be weak. Do not be ashamed to be tired....”
– from Leonard Cohen’s “How to Speak Poetry” (via honeyhead) (via muscovite) (via itouchtouchthings)
2 tags
Nothings.
It was the time of the year when the trees fountained green, and the sky bloomed and burned down at the same time. We went to sit on the throne of the foothills, like we were Orion and Andromeda, King and Queen of the Night. The city melted without us, became a sea of lights lapping at the edges of the country, the fields. Do you remember? he asks. Yes, you said that was the most romantic kiss...
