61
17 Nov 11 at 4 pm

frusciante:

Once upon a time, there was Candy and Dan.
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.
Danny the daredevil. Candy went missing.
The days last rays of sunshine cruise like sharks.
I want to try it your way this time.
You came into my life really fast and I liked it.
We squelched in the mud of our joy.
I was wet-thighed with surrender.
Then there was a gap in things and the whole earth tilted.
This is the business.
This, is what we’re after.
With you inside me comes the hatch of death.
And perhaps I’ll simply never sleep again.
The monster in the pool.
We are a proper family now with cats and chickens and runner beans.
Everywhere I looked.
And sometimes I hate you.
Friday — I didn’t mean that, mother of the blueness.
Angel of the storm. Remember me in my opaqueness.
You pointed at the sky, that one called Sirius or dog star, but on here on earth.
Fly away sun.
Ha ha fucking ha you are so funny Dan.
A vase of flowers by the bed. My bare blue knees at dawn.
These ruffled sheets and you are gone and I am going too.
I broke your head on the back of the bed but the baby he died in the morning.
I gave him a name.
His name was Thomas.
Poor little god.
His heart pounds like a voodoo drum.

frusciante:

“Once upon a time, there was Candy and Dan. 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. Danny the daredevil. Candy went missing. The days last rays of sunshine cruise like sharks. I want to try it your way this time. You came into my life really fast and I liked it. We squelched in the mud of our joy. I was wet-thighed with surrender. Then there was a gap in things and the whole earth tilted. This is the business. This, is what we’re after. With you inside me comes the hatch of death. And perhaps I’ll simply never sleep again. The monster in the pool. We are a proper family now with cats and chickens and runner beans. Everywhere I looked. And sometimes I hate you. Friday — I didn’t mean that, mother of the blueness. Angel of the storm. Remember me in my opaqueness. You pointed at the sky, that one called Sirius or dog star, but on here on earth.Fly away sun. Ha ha fucking ha you are so funny Dan. A vase of flowers by the bed. My bare blue knees at dawn. These ruffled sheets and you are gone and I am going too.I broke your head on the back of the bed but the baby he died in the morning. I gave him a name. His name was Thomas. Poor little god. His heart pounds like a voodoo drum.”
 163
14 Nov 11 at 5 pm

Anaïs Nin, Four Chambered Heart (via arreter)

(Source: arreter, via atomos)

"The drug of love was no escape, for in its coils lie latent dreams of greatness which awaken when men and women fecundate each other deeply. Something is always born of man and woman lying together and exchanging the essences of their lives. Some seed is always carried and opened in the soil of passion. The fumes of desire are the womb of man’s birth and often in the drunkeness of caresses history is made, and science, and philosophy. For a woman, as she sews, cooks, embraces, covers, warms, also dreams that the man taking her will be more than a man, will be the mythological figure of her dreams, the hero, the discoverer, the builder….Unless she is the anonymous whore, no man enters woman with impunity, for where the seed of man and woman mingle, within the drops of blood exchanged, the changes that take place are the same as those of great flowing rivers of inheritance, which carry traits of character from father to son to grandson, traits of character as well as physical traits. Memories of experience are transmitted by the same cells which repeated the design of a nose, a hand, the tone of a voice, the color of an eye. These great flowing rivers of inheritance transmitted traits and carried dreams from port to port until fulfillment, and gave birth to selves never born before….No man and woman know what will be born in the darkness of their intermingling; so much besides children, so many invisible births, exchanges of soul and character, blossoming of unknown selves, liberation of hidden treasures, buried fantasies…"


21 Oct 11 at 5 pm
tags: moi 

"I’ve got it bad."

(via feverthefocus, alkemilk)

20 Oct 11 at 5 pm

tasty-bonbons:

“You may dream, if you dream alike.”

tasty-bonbons:

“You may dream, if you dream alike.”
 6
18 Oct 11 at 7 pm

Such a man.

(via gonenowisthewillowwren)

tags: esto 
Such a man.

laughterandinsanity:

He has the address of every whorehouse in Paris, and the rates.

-Tropic of Cancer, Henry Miller

(Source: liberumarbitriumindifferentiae)


03 Oct 11 at 4 pm

Henry Miller, Tropic of Capricorn (via style-phile)

"From the very beginning I must have trained myself not to want anything too badly. From the very beginning I was independent, in a false way. I had need of nobody because I wanted to be free, free to do and to give only as my whims dictated. The moment anything was expected or demanded of me I balked. That was the form my independence took."

 206
03 Oct 11 at 3 pm

Stephen King (via 99lions)

(via thefilthyyouth)

tags: writing  lit  quotes 

"Some birds are not meant to be caged, that’s all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go, or when you open the cage to feed them they somehow fly out past you. And the part of you knows it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices, but still, the place where you live is that much more drab and empty for their departure."