Tuesday, 23 December 2014

And I had a stupid dream that I could change things but I'm a martyr to even less, I hate the ground that I have walked upon nothing I've done has ever mattered long

Then, one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore.
Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones

Saturday, 20 December 2014

Δεν υπάρχει ποτέ τρόπος ν’ ανακτήσουμε όσα θα χαθούν μ’ αυτόν τον τρόπο για πάντα

some people simply search out
unhappiness, they’ll scrounge it out
in any given situation
taking any whim
any simple error
and then becoming hateful

don’t they realize that
there’s so little
and to mutilate it
like this…
there’s never
any way
to recover
all that was
Bukowski, a terrible need

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

You were a kindness when I was a stranger, I was in a fog I didn't notice everything was coming all apart inside of me

Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others. But we were never lonely and never afraid when we were together. Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

Is it easy to keep so quiet? Everybody loves a quiet child... Is it easy to seem so grand? Wanna be alone in la-la-life

At teenage parties he was always wandering into the garden, sitting on a bench in the dark... staring up at the constellations and pondering all those big questions about the existence of God and the nature of evil and the mystery of death, questions which seemed more important than anything else in the would until a few years passed and some real questions had been dumped into your lap, like how to earn a living, and why people fell in and out of love, and how long you could carry on smoking and then give up without getting lung cancer. Mark Haddon, A Spot of Bother

I wasn't listening I was stung by all of us the blind leading out the bored and as per usual you were skipping and laughing eyes at the bedroom door

Sunday, 9 November 2014

Fools stand on their island opportunities and look toward another land - here is no other land, there is no other life but this

“Everything,' his father said, 'comes down to time in the end--to the passing of time, to changing. Ever thought of that? Anything that makes you happy or sad, isn't it all based on minutes going by? Isn't sadness wishing time back again? Even big things--even mourning a death: aren't you really just wishing to have the time back when that person was alive? Or photos--ever notice old photographs? How wistful they make you feel? ... Isn't it just that time for once is stopped that makes you wistful? If only you could turn it back again, you think. If only you could change this or that, undo what you have done, if only you could roll the minutes the other way, for once.”
Anne Tyler, Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

Saturday, 8 November 2014

We'll never be the change to the weather and the sea and you knew that

 there is a burst of colour:
 one more creature 
dizzy with love.
 he said, 
I want to leave.
 and they look at his paintings 
and love him 
 for that kind of love 
he did the right 
 as for the other kind of love 
it never arrived
Charles Bukowski

Friday, 7 November 2014

No matter what happens now I shouldn't be afraid and if I'm gonna talk I just wanna talk please don't interrupt just sit back and listen

Put the sounds of your house in a song try to be speechless for a minute; I can hear the sound of your laugh through the wall

your handwriting. the way you walk. which china pattern you choose. it's all giving you away. everything you do shows your hand. everything is a self portrait. everything is a diary. 
Chuck Palahniuk, Diary