December 2010
17 posts
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It used to be
I could sleep this away, or at least the time dealing with it. I could do something, anything, to keep my mind off of it.
I can no longer sleep- I haven’t slept for what’s going on seventeen hours. I can no longer occupy myself- I can’t concentrate anything. Of books, I don’t absorb a word. Of movies, I can’t help but noticing the people, in the fictional sense...
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I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different,...
– A Farewell to Arms
Fever 103 by Sylvia Plath
Pure? What does it mean? The tongues of hell Are dull, dull as the triple Tongues of dull, fat Cerebus Who wheezes at the gate. Incapable Of licking clean The aguey tendon, the sin, the sin. The tinder cries. The indelible smell Of a snuffed candle! Love, love, the low smokes roll From me like Isadora's scarves, I'm in a fright One scarf will catch and anchor in the wheel. Such yellow sullen...
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Soft hearts provide poor harbor; tin hearts can better stand against time and...
– The Dream of Perpetual Motion, Dexter Palmer
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I wish I were close
To you as the wet skirt of
A salt girl to her body
I...
– (via starvationplantation)