Towers’ is the name of the dormitory that I lived in in college; it’s made up of these two towers – North and South – my girlfriend lived in one and I lived in the other. It’s about falling in love, but also about what happens when you’ve long fallen out of love and those reminders are still there. You drive by them, these two buildings, and you look, and you realise that we really built that up. That we really built that love into these things, and for a long time afterward looking at them really made me feel sad; to see these empty buildings that I don’t go in to anymore. But then, as time goes on, they start to become kind of joyous in their own way: you can look at them and think ‘that love was great and these buildings still stand tall’. But there’s also an element of the fact that they’re just buildings – they’re gonna fall down one day, and they’re not that important because there’s new love in your life and you’ve got to break things down that get built up.
Justin Vernon (via technicoloring)
(dear xyz, I miss you and I miss everything, sweet sticky summer is when it hurts the most)
But I didn’t understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair.
I am still trying to rise up from the loveliness of dying objects
into the loveliness of whatever it is they point to. I’m trying
to get at just how things are, to adjust to that, but then I start
shaking. Isn’t that how it is with you?
——Frank X. Gaspar, from It Was So Dark Inside The Wolf
(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via shlting-deactivated20140711)
always midnight, whatever time it is
To tell you as a warning: there are things people do that will fuck you up. Set you on fire, fan the flames, pull you towards the piles and piles of wood all slick-ready with gasoline, the bullets, the roaring crackle of electricity, the splinters and the knives and the hard smooth rocks. And you’ll barely be able to turn your head, face the silhouettes of their receding bodies—no one wants to watch, no one stays until the very end of an execution—while you burn and the embers are floating like tiny satellites in the constellation of your life, was it only worth this much light? But it is rebirth, it is benediction, charred hands in naked stretches of land, an entire road ahead, unpaved, unlittered. Brand new soul, brand new moon. Not to be forgotten.
He had the curious feeling she wanted to move away from him, away among others choosing their food, among them, these strangers not only of this night, but of all her life outside the encounters in her profession, the dissection of their being into body parts. Here, among closely mingled lives that had no connection with hers and his—if she lost herself among these others she escaped from what held the two of them bound more tightly than love, than marriage, a bag tied over their heads, unable to breathe any air but that of something terrible that had happened on another Friday night.
——nadine gordimer, the house gun
I’m not afraid to compete. It’s just the opposite. Don’t you see that? I’m afraid I will compete — that’s what scares me. That’s why I quit the Theatre Department. Just because I’m so horribly conditioned to accept everybody else’s values, and just because I like applause and people to rave about me, doesn’t make it right. I’m ashamed of it. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody. I’m sick of myself and everybody else that wants to make some kind of a splash.
——Franny & Zooey, the best
so happy I was invited
give me a reason to get out of the city
see you inside watching swarms on TV
living and dying in New York means nothing to me
I gave my heart to the army
the only sentimental thing I could think of
with cousins and cousins somewhere overseas
but it’ll take a better war to kill a college man like me.
I’m too tired to drive anywhere anyway right now
do you care if I stay?
you can put on your bathing suits
and I’ll try to find something on this thing that means nothing
losing my breath—
you and your sister live in a lemonworld
I want to sit in and die.
this pricey stuff makes me dizzy
I guess I’ve always been a delicate man
takes me a day to remember a day
I didn’t mean to let it get so far out of hand
I was a comfortable kid
but I don’t think about it much anymore
lay me on the table, put flowers in my mouth
and we can say that we invented a summer lovin’ torture party
——lyrics that read like poetry, etc
Anonymous said: List of your favorite books that you'd recommend a perfect stranger to read?
everything under the tag