Thursday, August 30, 2012

Fernando Vicente

"The salt inside my body ruins
everyone I come close to,
My hands are barely holding up my head.
I am so tired of looking at my feet
all the secrets that I keep,
my heart is barely hanging by a thread."

Thursday, August 9, 2012

C Bronte

“I have little left in myself -- I must have you. The world may laugh -- may call me absurd, selfish -- but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”

“You — you strange — you almost unearthly thing! — I love as my own flesh. You — poor and obscure, and small and plain as you are — I entreat to accept me as a husband. 
I ask you to pass through life at my side—to be my second self, and best earthly companion.”

Jane and Rochester

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you–and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.”

"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being, with an independent will..."

"I lingered at the gates; I lingered on the lawn; I paced backwards and forwards on the pavement; the shutters of the glass door were closed; I could not see into the interior; and both my eyes and spirit seemed drawn from the gloomy house - from the grey-hollow filled with rayless cells, as it appeared to me - to that sky expanded before me, - a blue sea absolved from taint of cloud; the moon ascending it in solemn march; her orb seeming to look up as she left the hill-tops, from behind which she had come, far and farther below her, and aspired to the zenith, midnight dark in its fathomless depth and measureless distance; and for those trembling stars that followed her course; they made my heart tremble, my veins glow when I viewed them. Little things recall us to earth; the clock struck in the hall; that sufficed; I turned from moon and stars, opened a side-door, and went in."
-C Bronte

Friday, August 3, 2012

Aethan came to visit

“His spirit is like a guttering candle”

“I am not alone in this. I only let him do to me what men have ever done to women: march off to empty glory and hollow acclaim and leave us behind to pick up the pieces. The broken cities, the burned barns, the innocent injured beasts, the ruined bodies of the boys we bore and the men we lay with.

The waste of it. I sit here, and I look at him, and it is as if a hundred women sit beside me: the revolutionary farm wife, the English peasant woman, the Spartan mother-'Come back with your shield or on it,' she cried, because that was what she was expected to cry. And then she leaned across the broken body of her son and the words turned to dust in her throat.” 

-Geraldine March

Beginnings of a band?

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

The Dreamers

One of the most beautiful, most scandalous films I've seen.

― Pablo Neruda

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. 
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day 
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. 

I hunger for your sleek laugh, 
your hands the color of a savage harvest, 
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, 
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. 

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, 
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, 
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, 

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, 
hunting for you, for your hot heart, 
Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.” 

“If nothing matters, there's nothing to save.” Eating Animals, Foer

“Just how destructive does a culinary preference have to be before we decide to eat something else? If contributing to the suffering of billions of animals that live miserable lives and (quite often) die in horrific ways isn't motivating, what would be? If being the number one contributor to the most serious threat facing the planet (global warming) isn't enough, what is? And if you are tempted to put off these questions of conscience, to say not now, then when?” 

“Dogs are wonderful, and in many ways unique. But they are remarkably unremarkable in their intellectual and experiential capacities. Pigs are every bit as intelligent and feeling, by any sensible definition of the words. They can't hop into the back of a Volvo, but they can fetch, run and play, be mischievous, and reciprocate affection. So why don't they get to curl up by the fire? Why can't they at least be spared being tossed on the fire?”

Extravagant Delight

Things were very hot that year.
All the wax was melting in the trees.
He would climb balconies,
climb everywhere,
do anything for her,
oh Danny boy.
Thousands of birds, the tiniest birds,
adorned her hair.
Everything was gold.
One night the bed caught fire.

He was handsome and a very good criminal.
We lived on sunlight and chocolate bars.
It was the afternoon of extravagant delight.