The Future is, of all things, the thing least like eternity. It is the most...– C.S. Lewis (The Screwtape Letters)
What they do not comprehend is man’s helplessness. I am weak, small, of no...– Philip K. Dick, The Man in the High Castle (via epiphanyrambler)
I began to draw an invisible boundary between myself and other people. No matter...– Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami. (via slowdespair)
vulgivagus: I took my feelings off and brought the scissors from the drawer downstairs I cut them into squares and glued them to the fridge little pieces I pass by and faint until I have to sleep (again).
The Farm (Part 4)
I stumbled through two more rooms after that. I was nearly crazed by the time I reached the fifth. The fifth door was pure white, unlike the others. With a sigh of relief, I assured myself that this door must be the last. I turned the knob to find that this room was a copy of the one I first entered…”What They Never Told You.” There were four animals inside- the ones that I had seen...
The Farm (Part 3)
Perhaps I should explain more about this place. A few weeks prior to my admission, I had been chosen for a program called “Meet Your Meat”. I received a letter asking me to visit an old warehouse down the street. The warehouse housed multiple small rooms, and I was directed to one called “What They Never Told You.” There were two people lined up in front of the door-...
The Farm (Part 2)
I found myself on the opposite side of the translucent panel, inside some sort of factory. There were unfamiliar contraptions stacked on either side of me. It seemed that they had created a path for me to follow. And so I walked. Within minutes, I found myself covering my eyes. I’d noticed the faint smell of smoke further down the makeshift hallway. I followed more out of instinct than...
The Farm (Part 1)
I remember promising myself a sense of composure. The previous two had each abandoned the room in a rush of frenzied cries. I smirked at this display. It had never been characteristic of me to show an excess of emotion, and it would’ve been even less so to adopt such a hysterical image. As I’m able to recount the following, it should be obvious that my disposition hasn’t been...
Of all escape mechanisms, death is the most efficient.– H.L. Mencken (via disposablefriends)
Many details that once made up the daily round are lost to us because people...– From ‘Literature Brings the Physical Past to Life’ by Scott Herring in The Chronicle of Higher Education: http://chronicle.com/article/Literature-Brings-the-Physical/128706/ (via bookoflead)
All my life I had been looking for something, and everywhere I turned someone...– Ralph Ellison, Battle Royal (via cordisre)
And when you’re consoled (everyone eventually is consoled), you’ll be glad...– Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince (via liquidnight)
6wordstory: Life happens. With or without permission.
myinkstainedheart: I’ll pen down words, craft you into poetry, from a solid figure of a man into a collage. I’ll stitch syllables, rhyme scheme, and imagery; a framework of verses, a poem’s entourage. My thoughts for a bone, the basic structure, then words for flesh and lines as ligament. Between the spaces dear, I’ll draw the contour of your face as my love is sewn in every fragment.
The tree lay down on the garage roof and stretched, You have your heaven, it...– William Carlos Williams, “The Hurricane” (via proustitute)
Looking back, I stopped writing in my notebook when I stopped wanting to know...– Jay Asher (via modernmethadone)
Burning lines of scarlet frenzy, winding streams of cerulean hush. They crash within a tempest of blinding entropy, wrestling to be captured by the senses. Within the chaos is a clandestine artistry, obscured by the discord of neon vines. The hidden symphony continues to play. Clouds of aria rise from the mist, and passion and serenity melt within the orchestral forest. The lines continue their...
Softly rippling, tears folding beneath tides of wind; the river laments.
Opportunistic looting is almost a folk tradition of consumer capitalism and...– Gordon Hon (via buffleheadcabin)
With a flash of coy apprehension, it hid itself within the midst of coiled ropes, its face bearing a pitiable mark of constrained regret. It refused to be a martyr. It would not tolerate the handling of its own, now corporeal form, as a senseless sacrifice. “Monster”, some called it. Others deemed it nothing short of a “miracle”. However, either namesake meant demise for...
You have lost your reason and taken the wrong path. You have taken lies for...– Anton Chekhov (via ad0lescents)
Words are not in the power of men: men are in the power of words. Every time we...– Hermann Bahr, Russiche Reise (via todf)
If you want to change the world’s spirit, I will suggest that only poetry can do...– Andrei Voznesensky, from a 1980 interview in The Paris Review (via proustitute)
Do not lay such heavy burdens In the graves of those you bury, Not such weight...– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “The Song of Hiawatha” (via musicistheart)
62words: Wake up between the hours of two to four. Not in the morning, never in the morning. Sleep between the hours of two to four. Not in the afternoon, never in the afternoon. It’s not even really being awake. It’s just awareness. And you haven’t even left the bed yet. Stare blankly at the ceiling until you start feeling. Feel nothing. Sleep.
People don’t want their lives fixed. Nobody wants their problems solved. Their...– Chuck Palahniuk