1)
Walking past buildings in a ghostly shroud
Intertwined in inner tongues of light
Calling false lives and shattered bones,
Finding lost hopes in ruin. I cry for help.
Beauty I only show to God.
Trust and belief to eyes of the innocent
Cast away the wings of glassy stares
Arches of leaves and stone behind,
Angels glistened silent.
Beauty I only show to God.
The misery has gone to hell,
Yet shadowed in my heart
Secret walks in darkened hills
Begging thorns rip away inside.
A future torn in two and folded in dark pockets
Reunite under the moon tonight.
Beauty I only show to God.
2)
Voices taunting and disturbed,
Dripping wilted clovers in the smoke,
Sick in sorrow.
This torment longs for recognition
Yet no mirror breathes a sigh.
Beauty I only show to God.
Heaven, no one gets there in a hurry,
No escape hideaway to be found
For protection from this flesh or spirit
Has been vain and left uncrowned.
Hot bath in December, on some lonely hill
in heat only the devil knows.
Wild white flowers fading in the fatigue
of embers, plucked from the night,
Extinguished from my soul.
Beauty I only show to God.
3)
Incantations, charms of slivered heart
Cat eyes stare from sharpened twigs
Bulbs in coarse madding strokes
Of dark blue.
Endless mind, refugee of stars.
Madness seeks another heart to
destroy, strength of love awaiting
binds.
this isn't who you are, this faded lightless star,
your mind is a constant script, in ancient faded lines
Passages of moons passed,
with suns if your future.-Larisa
The City
You said, "I will go to another land, I will go to another sea.
Another city will be found, better than this.
Every effort of mine is condemned by fate;
and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long in this wasteland will my mind remain.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I may look
I see the black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years, and ruined and wasted."
New lands you will not find, you will not find other seas.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
in these same houses you will grow gray.
Always you will arrive in this city. To another land -- do not hope --
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have ruined your life here
in this little corner, you have destroyed it in the whole world.
- Constantine P. Cavafy (1910)
Music:
That song pierced his heart like a valentine
Movies:
heat, Italianetz, regular lovers, breakfast of tiffany's, camille claudel, the lives of others, story of adele h, cinema paradiso, through a glass darkly, pretty in pink, bottle rocket, the name of the game LA 2017, rivers edge, dog day afternoon, le miserables, blue velvet, Pride & Prejudice, The Bicycle Thief, the beales of gray garden, Some Like it Hot, Of Human Bondage, waking life, Blade Runner, A Scanner Darkly, i'm no angel, The Big Lebowski, Stranger than Paradise, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane, harold & maude, butterfield 8, The Godfather, Hero, Streetcar Named Desire, Labyrinth, The Haunting, ghostbusters, the magician (1958), melena, His Girl Friday, Back to the Future, amelie, the matrix, the shinning, poltergiest, who is kerouac?, the aviator, blood diamond + so many many more
Television:
Lost
Heroes Mad TV South Park Futurama Lexx I Love Lucy Three's Company
THE DAILY SHOW!
Books:
you may well be a mere plaything of such a malevolent intelligence.
Mysteries are not necessarily miracles.
"And yet firmly implanted in my mind is the long-standing opinion that there is an omnipotent God who made me the kind of creature that I am. How do I know that he has not brought it about that there is no earth, no sky, no extended thing, no shape, no size, no place, while at the same time ensuring that all these things appear to me to exist just as they do now? What is more, just as I consider that others sometimes go astray in cases where they think they have the most perfect knowledge, how do I know that God has not brought it about that I too go wrong every time I add two and three or count the sides of a square, or in some even simpler matter, if that is imaginable? But perhaps God would not have allowed me to be deceived in this way, since he is said to be supremely good; [...] I will suppose therefore that not God, who is supremely good and the source of truth, but rather some malicious demon of the utmost power and cunning has employed all his energies in order to deceive me. I shall think that the sky, the air, the earth, colours, shapes, sounds and all external things are merely the delusions of dreams which he has devised to ensnare my judgment." (Meditations, 15)
Rene Descartes
Lord Byron , jane austin, victor hugo, the idiots guide to creative visualization, memoirs of a geisha, man and his symbols - jung, touched with fire, zen and the brain, the waking dream by ray grasse, Herman Hesse, Isaac Asimov, kerouac, rimbaud, Keats' Isabella and the Pot of Basil, Ginsburg, Anne Sexton, ayn rand, Philip K Dick, Dostoevsky, Dylan Thomas, William Burroughs, What is the What, nietzsche, edgar allan poe, zen and the brain,
Grave Undertakings: Mortician by Day, Model by Night
by Alexandra Kathryn Mosca, Isabel Allende, Sylvia Plath, William Gibson, William Blake, Shakespeare, Chuck Palahniuk + tons
...Words strain,
Crack, and sometimes break, under the burden,
Under the tension, slip, slide, perish,
Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place,
Will not stay still. Shrieking voices
Scolding, mocking, or merely chattering,
Always assail them. The Word in the desert
Is most attacked by voices of temptation,
The crying shadow in the funeral dance,
The loud lament of the disconsolate chimera.
-ts eliot
"For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth."
-Kahlil Gibran
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.
Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 19-27)
It was a vision.—In the drowsy gloom,
The dull of midnight, at her couch’s foot
Lorenzo stood, and wept: the forest tomb
Had marr’d his glossy hair which once could shoot
Lustre into the sun, and put cold doom
Upon his lips, and taken the soft lute
From his lorn voice, and past his loamed ears
Had made a miry channel for his tears.
Strange sound it was, when the pale shadow spake;
For there was striving, in its piteous tongue,
To speak as when on earth it was awake,
And Isabella on its music hung:
Languor there was in it, and tremulous shake,
As in a palsied Druid’s harp unstrung;
And through it moan’d a ghostly under-song,
Like hoarse night-gusts sepulchral briars among.
-keats
The Greeks had the idea of dreams from two gates. True dreams come through the gate of ivory, false ones through the gate of horn (see The Odyssey). The passages about arranging the mirrors and so on hardly seem to fit the idea that "this is all a dream."
"The gift of Dick’s craziness was to see how strong the forces of normalcy are in a society, even when what they are normalizing is objectively nuts."
read the whole article - the new yorker
“I disregard the proportions, the measures, the tempo of the ordinary world. I refuse to live in the ordinary world as ordinary women. To enter ordinary relationships. I want ecstasy. I am a neurotic -- in the sense that I live in my world. I will not adjust myself to the world. I am adjusted to myself.†Anais Nin.
There is a tale so great it is envious.
Heroes:
.
"Popularity? It is glory's small change."
-Victor Hugo
No man is ever rich enough to buy back his past. -oscar wilde
"Every Rose Needs a Stem".
'The better days of life were ours;
The worst can be but mine:
The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers,
Shall never more be thine.
The silence of that dreamless sleep
I envy now too much to weep;
Nor need I to repine
That all those charms have pass'd away,
I might have watch'd through long decay.'
'I know not if I could have borne
To see thy beauties fade;
The night that follow'd such a morn
Had worn a deeper shade:
Thy day without a cloud hath pass'd,
And thou wert lovely to the last,
Extinguish'd, not decay'd;
As stars that shoot along the sky
Shine brightest as they fall from high.'
-byron
"Harlot, yes, but traitor, never."
"whether angels or devils
pursue me
in the dark i cannot tell . . ."
-romanian song, 13th century
Claudel's Sakountala, also known as L'Abandon, depicts Sakountala and her true love in Nirvana. Nirvana is a state of non-being; detachment; one may remain part of the cosmos, but the individual ego has expanded and died. Before reaching this state, the two lovers were estranged on earth, but before Sakountala died, a promise was made to "remember." Now, after being estranged on the earthly plane, somehow their love has survived the reality of Nirvana, yet they don't recognize what is happening or who the "other" is; however, they somehow know that the other is there. It is a love that has survived the very death of the ego. A contradiction indeed, and also poignant.
"I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall."(Eleanor Roosevelt)
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