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“You’d be surprised how quickly the mind goes soggy in the absence of other people. One person alone is not a full person: we exist in relation to others. I was one person: I risked becoming no person.”

— Margaret Atwood, The Testaments

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oh i’m GAGGED

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if yr doing a final girl in yr horror movie YOU NEED TO KILL HER BOYFRIEND that's the absolute rule

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If you persevere, in time you will have an entirely different problem – not that life is meaningless, but rather that life has almost too much meaning. As the scales fall from your eyes the world rushes into focus, presenting itself with a kind of vibrational eloquence that can, at first, be almost overwhelming. Everything shimmers, everything clarifies, everything wrestles for your attention. Trees feel super-real, their roots plunged into the earth, their branches stretching to the sky, birds are flesh and blood souls, fragile with life, the sky unfolds and rolls, the ocean crashes, people fascinate, books are beautiful, children are whirling dynamos of chaos, dogs bark and cats meow, flowers shout, your neighbour glows, and God runs like a helix through all things. The world awaits you, humming with meaning. You are alive with potential. You are not dead.

— Nick Cave on getting clean, Red Hand Files #258

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Tony Hoagland, from Application for Release from the Dream; “The Complex Sentence”

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Courtney often had trouble figuring out how to end a song. New songs were her thing, shiny new songs and pretty parts without endings. I think she wanted to stay inside the song, the way you never want a feeling to end.

— Patty Schemel on Courtney Love in her memoir Hit So Hard

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#poetry tag

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Chen Chen

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Sex Without Love

by Sharon Olds

How do they do it, the ones who make love without love? Beautiful as dancers, gliding over each other like ice-skaters over the ice, fingers hooked inside each other’s bodies, faces red as steak, wine, wet as the children at birth whose mothers are going to give them away. How do they come to the come to the come to the God come to the still waters, and not love the one who came there with them, light rising slowly as steam off their joined skin? These are the true religious, the purists, the pros, the ones who will not accept a false Messiah, love the priest instead of the God. They do not mistake the lover for their own pleasure, they are like great runners: they know they are alone with the road surface, the cold, the wind, the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio- vascular health — just factors, like the partner in the bed, and not the truth, which is the single body alone in the universe against its own best time.

#poetry tag

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I can’t remember the source of this but I read something once that described the replacements as nowadays being “almost exclusively beloved by bookish women with drinking problems”. I think of it all the time it gets truer every day

#omfg?????

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Cocaine was a stimulant used by a priestly caste of the middle period United States called businessmen in order to commune with The Market. [1]

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narratively I am a fan of romances that don’t ever actually become romances

I don’t mean in an aromantic life partner way, I mean romantic tension that is never resolved or acted upon for whatever reason but by the end it’s clear that both characters experienced the love of their lives without ever acknowledging it as such. but they know. they know.

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Leonard Cohen with Suzanne Elrod, mother of his children and his muse.

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(via fuckyeahryanmcginley-blog)