the-arena-ballerina:

neptunain:

christmas is so much worse as you get older it’s like “what do you want this year?” “a sense of purpose”

"a career" "financial security" "a sex life" "tuition for grad school" "alcohol" "a nap" "socks would be nice"

(via baddwolfgirl)


Q
What is your ultimate fantasy?
Anonymous
A

becomingathena:

Financial stability.


theparisreview:

Before Moby-Dick there was Mocha Dick—not a coffee-chocolate phallus but “a real-life whale … who fought off whalers for decades before being killed by harpoon.” It was a magazine story about Mocha that inspired Melville to write his novel; now, in a new illustrated book, Mocha Dick: The Legend and the Fury, the original whale gets his due.
For more of this morning’s roundup, click here.

theparisreview:

Before Moby-Dick there was Mocha Dick—not a coffee-chocolate phallus but “a real-life whale … who fought off whalers for decades before being killed by harpoon.” It was a magazine story about Mocha that inspired Melville to write his novel; now, in a new illustrated book, Mocha Dick: The Legend and the Fury, the original whale gets his due.

For more of this morning’s roundup, click here.



“You’re only given one little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it."  - Robin Williams [July 29th 1951 - August 11th 2014]

You’re only given one little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it."
Robin Williams
[July 29th 1951 - August 11th 2014]

(via meenamoro)


queerpotters:

does anyone else feel like they just lost their favourite uncle

(via meenamoro)


daysirecall:

"¿Cómo se hace para vivir una vida vacía?¿Cómo se hace para vivir una vida llena de nada?”

daysirecall:

"¿Cómo se hace para vivir una vida vacía?
¿Cómo se hace para vivir una vida llena de nada?”


(via beatowl)


(via baddwolfgirl)


Debo fingir que hay otros. Es mentira. Sólo tú eres.
Jorge Luis Borges  (via hachedesilencio)

(via hachedesilencio)


Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire.
Jorge Luis Borges Labyrinths (via sempiternale)

metaphorformetaphor:

You fall in love with people’s minds.

— Anaïs Nin, Henry & June: From the Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin. Harcourt, 1986

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)


little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won’t flinch and
i won’t blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won’t blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won’t use it
yet.
Charles Bukowski, “Raw With Love”  (via wordsnquotes)

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)


starweilder:

trying to figure out someone else’s shower

image

(via beatowl)


theparisreview:

“Breakfast is a personal ritual that can only be properly observed alone, and in a spirit of genuine excess … four Bloody Marys, two grapefruits, a pot of coffee, Rangoon crêpes, a half-pound of either sausage, bacon, or corned-beef hash with diced chilies, a Spanish omelette or eggs Benedict, a quart of milk, a chopped lemon for random seasoning, and something like a slice of key lime pie, two margaritas and six lines of the best cocaine for dessert.” —The breakfast habits of Hunter S. Thompson, born on this day in 1937. (via)

theparisreview:

“Breakfast is a personal ritual that can only be properly observed alone, and in a spirit of genuine excess … four Bloody Marys, two grapefruits, a pot of coffee, Rangoon crêpes, a half-pound of either sausage, bacon, or corned-beef hash with diced chilies, a Spanish omelette or eggs Benedict, a quart of milk, a chopped lemon for random seasoning, and something like a slice of key lime pie, two margaritas and six lines of the best cocaine for dessert.” —The breakfast habits of Hunter S. Thompson, born on this day in 1937. (via)


superescalifragilistica:

Cortázar ♥

superescalifragilistica:

Cortázar ♥