February 2012
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“Fat people who love themselves scare the shit out of people who don’t love...”
– Tigress Osborn (via mollypockette)
Henry Miller's Writing Commandments →
youmightfindyourself:
Work on one thing at a time until finished.
Start no more new books, add no more new material to “Black Spring.”
Don’t be nervous. Work calmly, joyously, recklessly on whatever is in hand.
Work according to Program and not according to mood. Stop at the appointed time!
When you can’t create you can work.
Cement a little every day, rather than add new fertilizers.
Keep...
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If you could transplant yourself in any movie and live in that setting and with those characters forever, what would it be?
(Of course the soundtrack would be playing in the background forever.)
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hhoyland:
“On a somewhat serious note today because of a conversation the other day: I am sure every girl can recall, at least once as a child, coming home and telling their parents, uncle, aunt or grandparent about a boy who had pulled her hair, hit her, teased her, pushed her or committed some other playground crime. I will bet money that most of those, if not all, will tell you that they were...
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We’re forced to pay price for our parent’s mistakes and sometimes, it’s not fair to take on that emotional burden and manipulation. Is it a price to pay as children? The parents say that children are a debt that they have to pay but more often than not, maybe we take on their emotional baggage that they couldn’t pay off as youths. Perhaps it’s part and parcel of being...
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“I think we can all recognize that the “it’s a joke excuse” is the most...”
– Loose Talk: You can take your “just joking” and shove it. (via fox-power)
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On Monday morning, I had a fitful sleep and an even strange dream. I didn’t jolt awake, and I forced myself to snap out of my dream to write it down so I could remember. And in my stupor, here’s what I wrote
Amusement park strangers went by. Screaming shouting it looks like old monorail in Sentosa. Train and something idk. Net classmates at exhibition. Some ran off I went in.
When...
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I know that if we lived together, our home would contain too many books and fluid memories for our shelves to fit - spilling out onto the floors, out of hallway and settling into the dark pits by the corner of the house. I know that if we lived together, our home would thrive on alcoholic nights and hazy devilish figures that lurk by the doorway - dreaming and dying and living in one messy ball of...
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