July 16, 2014
undeadthug:

where do grandmas and aunties even buy this shit? It’s not in stores???do they have a dealer who sells to them???? 


Really though

undeadthug:

where do grandmas and aunties even buy this shit? It’s not in stores???do they have a dealer who sells to them???? 

Really though

(Source: vieja-solar, via tinyflowerpetal)

July 13, 2014

(Source: dryisthedesert, via yellowmoons)

July 6, 2014

Ingmar Bergman's thoughts about why so many people all around the world could identify with Marianne’s and Johan’s relationship from his TV mini-series Scenes from a Marriage1973. (click on the link to watch the series on youtube) 

(Source: mexq, via man-of-prose)

July 6, 2014

(Source: man-of-prose)

July 6, 2014
"

Tolstoy himself, it is true, occupies a dual position. From the point of view purely of form (a point of view which, in Tolstoy’s special case, cannot possibly do justice to what matters most in his vision or in his created world) he must be seen as the final expression of European Romanticism. However, in the few overwhelmingly great moments of his works—moments which must be seen as subjective and reflexive in respect of each particular work as a whole—he shows a clearly differentiated, concrete and existent world, which, if it could spread out into a totality, would be completely inaccessible to the categories of the novel and would require a new form of artistic creation: the form of the renewed epic.

This world is the world of pure soul-reality in which man exists as man, neither as a social being nor as an isolated, unique, pure and therefore abstract interiority. If ever this world should come into being as something natural and simply experienced, as the only true reality, a new complete totality could be built out of all its substances and relationships. It would be a world to which our divided reality would be a mere backdrop, a world which would have outstripped our dual world or social reality by as much as we have outstripped the world of nature. But art can never be the agent of such a transformation: the great epic is a form bound to the historical moment, and any attempt to depict the utopian as existent can only end in destroying the form, not in creating reality. The novel is the form of the epoch of absolute sinfulness, as Fichte said, and it must remain the dominant form so long as the world is ruled by the same stars. In Tolstoy, intimations of a breakthrough into a new epoch are visible; but they remain polemical, nostalgic and abstract.

It is in the words of Dostoevsky that this new world, remote from any struggle against what actually exists, is drawn for the first time simply as a seen reality. That is why he, and the form he created, lie outside the scope of this book. Dostoevsky did not write novels, and the creative vision revealed in his works has nothing to do, either as affirmation or as rejection, with European nineteenth-century Romanticism or with many, likewise Romantic, reactions against it. He belongs to the new world. Only formal analysis of his works can show whether he is already the Homer or the Dante of that world or whether he merely supplies the songs which, together with the songs of other forerunners, later artists will one day weave into a great unity: whether he is merely a beginning or already a completion. It will then be the task of historico-philosophical interpretation to decide whether we are really about to leave the age of absolute sinfulness or whether the new has no other herald but our hopes who are signs of a world to come, still so weak that it easily be crushed by the sterile power of the merely existent.

"

— Georg Lukács, The Theory of the Novel (via fyodors)

(Source: grandhotelabyss, via fyodors)

July 4, 2014
"Sometimes I just get really tired, and I don’t want to be around anyone for awhile. It’s not anybody’s fault but mine."

— (via coffeestainedlife)

July 4, 2014
"Like the discovery of love, like the discovery of the sea, the discovery of Dostoevsky marks an important date in one’s life."

— Jorge Luis Borges, Personal Library (via fuckyeahjorgeluisborges)

July 4, 2014
"PEOPLE ALWAYS THINK THAT YOU NEED A REASON TO BE SAD, AND THAT’S WHY WHEN THEY ASKED ME IF I WAS FINE I SAID YES BECAUSE I CANNOT EXPLAIN MYSELF I CANNOT EXPLAIN THIS SADNESS THAT HAS MADE IT’S WAY INTO MY ARTERIES AND MADE A HOME IN MY CHEST I CANNOT EXPLAIN WHY I FEEL MYSELF BEING EATEN AWAY BY MY OWN EMOTIONS."

M.O.W, I DO NOT KNOW WHAT THIS SADNESS WANTS FROM ME (via imwritingpoems)

July 4, 2014
"Do not seek the because - in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions."

— Anaïs Nin, Henry And June (via wordsnquotes)

(via carneliandust)

June 26, 2014
grupaok:

Tee Corinne, Cunt Coloring Book, 1975

grupaok:

Tee Corinne, Cunt Coloring Book, 1975

May 31, 2014
"I said it’s hard being just friends, that includes Facebook…"

— M.E, @Shroomed-Thinking “It’s Early in the Morning” Night #1- Ten Word Story

May 29, 2014
"You are allowed to be alive. You are allowed to be somebody different. You are allowed to not say goodbye to anybody or explain a single thing to anyone, ever."

— Augusten Burroughs  (via re-examine)

(Source: skylerhobbs, via bottledsalt)

May 29, 2014
More metaphors of bodies as planets

rejectscorner:

Feta’s Note: Did I ever mention I love metaphors? This is awesome.

bottledsalt:

Without a doubt

There is an iceberg the size of a humpback whale

crumbling off the side of a glacier like bakers’ sugar

And I wonder if the scientists in Antarctica,

whose machines could detect the faintest rise in sea level,

could sense the tectonic vibrations of my trembling hands

the first day we spoke.

I like to know that it’s always nighttime somewhere

And that our jet-lagged planet is constantly chasing stars

the way my voice does for the right words

to describe the impact of your body on mine.

After 200 millions of years

Pangaea is still rearranging itself

The shape of each lake and valley is no accident

The way your mouth

fills in the spaces of my clavicles 

is no accident.

Wow

February 3, 2014
Lets Love Like books do

I sat down drunk at these keys,and feverishly tried to compare her to a book, something about a pretty cover, and how her friends gave me horrid reviews, how we both know where this leads, and about how I like to ruin a good story by reading the endings. But you wouldn’t be a book girl, shit. On the real, your a novel made trilogy made series, because I need to milk your story as long as I can. I know this is cheesy but your ink makes me feel some type of way… like I know it sounds like im joking but im totally cereal. Alright well lets try to make a metaphor, metaphorically speaking if life was a book, is it alright if i scribble on your spine, write H.A.G.S on pages that weren’t mine, scribble nonsense on blank pages, like real gibberish. Typically I take really good care of my book, but as much as I try to stick with this metaphor, Its defused with thoughts of you. I guess what I’m asking would you hate me If I left a mark? If so, could I just get a minute to check you out. And you can write in mine, draw rainbows and suicide notes, just please follow the rules when writing in mine;
1. Write as if you were anonymous
 

February 15, 2013
viciousvelvet316:

Ahh I suddenly don’t remember 

viciousvelvet316:

Ahh I suddenly don’t remember 

(Source: weedimsmokinit, via bakedoutbeats)

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