“We live together, we act on, and react to, one another; but always and in all circumstances we are by ourselves. The martyrs go hand in hand into the arena; they are crucified alone. Embraced, the lovers desperately try to fuse their insulated ecstacies into a single self-transcendence; in vain. By its very nature every embodied spirit is doomed to suffer and enjoy in solitude.”—Aldous Huxley |||| The Doors of Perception (via floralnymph)
When F. Scott Fitzgerald was 6 years old he had a birthday party to which nobody came. He waited on the porch all afternoon in his freshly pressed suit but nobody showed, so at last he went inside and ate his entire birthday cake, including several candles.
Right now I feel like a possum that’s been forced to wear a tie. A strange feeling this is. Anyway, listening to R sing Backstreet Boys songs in a country accent is making my day just a little brighter.
man my computer is like fucked so i haven’t been posting anything. it won’t let me log into my computer and it says “windows is configuring computer. don’t turn off your computer” and yeah it stays like that forever and never lets me log in so! yeah
“Let all of life be an unfettered howl. Like the crowd greeting the gladiator. Don’t stop to think, don’t interrupt the scream, exhale, release life’s rapture. Everything is blooming. Everything is flying. Everything is screaming, choking on its screams. Laughter. Running. Let-down hair. That is all there is to life. ”—Vladimir Nabokov
I’m here shamelessly appreciating my idiocy when it comes to the views of DuBois and Booker T. Washington because I’m too busy looking at pictures of Michael Cera with a mustache. God created this human being in such a way that has made me go insane. Why though? What did I do to deserve this monstrosity of a misery? Hmph.
“Let’s go swimming in the womb of nothingness, where our conversations can fit together like dove-tailed joints without coming to a stressful end. Let’s go do nothing! Scattering our words like placidly sprinkling water! Indifferent as pure essence!”
“The way you’re singing in your sleep The way you look before you leap The strange illusions that you keep You don’t know But I’m noticing The way your touch turns into arcs The way you slide into the dark The beating of my open heart You don’t know But I’m noticing”
— David Levithan, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist
Last night when I got home I decided to walk to the vast field outside by my house. It was a crispy 11:30 and I decided to just lay down for a bit and enjoy the lulling noises of the night. Never in my life had I felt so reposed and replenished with happiness.
& on Saturday I ate honey mustard that tasted like barbie dolls.
“Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can. But life leaps over oblivion lightly, losing only a thing or two of no importance, and gloom is but the passing shadow of a cloud.”—Yann Martel, Life of Pi
I sit here, an arch-villain of romance, thinking about you. Gee, I’m sorry I made you unhappy, but there was nothing I could do about it because I have to be free. Perhaps everything would have been different if you had stayed at the table or asked me to go out with you to look at the moon, instead of getting up and leaving me alone with her.”
— "The Moon Versus Us Ever Sleeping Together Again,"Richard Brautigan
“Conversation between a princess and an outlaw:
“If I stand for fairy-tale balls and dragon bait—dragon bait—what do you stand for?”
“Me? I stand for uncertainty, insecurity, bad taste, fun, and things that go boom in the night.”
“Franky, it seems to me that you’ve turned yourself into a stereotype.”
“You may be right. I don’t care. As any car freak will tell you, the old models are the most beautiful, even if they aren’t the most efficient. People who sacrifice beauty for efficiency get what they deserve.”
“Well, you may get off on being a beautiful stereotype, regardless of the social consequences, but my conscience won’t allow it.”
“And I goddamn refuse to be dragon bait. I’m as capable of rescuing you as you are of rescuing me.”
“I’m an outlaw, not a hero. I never intended to rescue you. We’re our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves.”—Tom Robbins, Still Life With Woodpecker
“There is no escape. You can’t be a vagabond and an artist and still be a solid citizen, a wholesome, upstanding man. You want to get drunk, so you have to accept the hangover. You say yes to the sunlight and pure fantasies, so you have to say yes to the filth and the nausea. Everything is within you, gold and mud, happiness and pain, the laughter of childhood and the apprehension of death. Say yes to everything, shirk nothing. Don’t try to lie to yourself. You are not a solid citizen. You are not a Greek. You are not harmonious, or the master of yourself. You are a bird in the storm. Let it storm! Let it drive you! How much have you lied! A thousand times, even in your poems and books, you have played the harmonious man, the wise man, the happy, the enlightened man. In the same way, men attacking in war have played heroes, while their bowels twitched. My God, what a poor ape, what a fencer in the mirror man is- particularly the artist- particularly myself!”—Hermann Hesse