oh_me_ghost

Repeating the story - the myriad formed soul. Kneel before / the foxglove carrying off twelve soft red deceptions / mauve bells dropped doubled down the stem trembling antennae. Look in the eyes of the branded deer that stares breathing stockstill under the dripping hawthorn. I lay down, mixing my mind with the wet hair of the mountainside, smelling the brown vagina. Moist ground, harmless,...
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Here's a little song i wrote today.

Sound travels so strangely
even though i'm crazy
i don't think i mind
but then again
being crazy
how would i know
whether i really know what
i am saying. Sundays...

In life, no... on certain days, a person has to deal with all of who they are. Some people say it is necessary to become better, according to some standard. "Become a monument representing everything i love," they say. Become successful and hurry up towards the goal because it makes them feel better about reality. I can see the advantage of having goals, but at...
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He was the love of my life
I thought he would always be my love
* looks into somebody else's eyes * i see now how i was wrong.

This is the human song: "Everybody else should interest me and represent something great, like honor, or integrity, or free-spiritedness, or perfect kindness, or some currently inaccessible aspect of my psyche. If they just want to be themselves rather than striving to embody my anima/animus then they are flawed i tell you, flawed and assholes. What a bunch of jerks."

Ah, the human song.

The fact that Microsoft is developing a windows operating system called LongHorn is just absurd, and its absurdity has made me realize that it cant be a coincidence. Bill Gates is laughing. Either hes an idiot, or hes laughing.

Quotes 84130

Nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purposea point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye.
- Mary Shelley

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A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.
- Diane Arbus

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All that we know is nothing. We are merely crammed wastepaper baskets, unless we are in...
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Words that dance.
That intertwine and combine and
Ideas that act all spasticlike
Geometric shapes, precisely formed,
with pointed toes
A chaotic stacatto madness
That's what happens
Bodies know.

Teresa of God, by Anne Carson

Teresa lived in a personal black cube.
I saw her hit the wall each way she moved.
She cursed her heart

which was, she said, rent
and her nose
which had been broken again and again.

Some people have to fight every moment of their lives
which God has lined with a burning animal--
I think because

God wants...
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The Glass Essay, by Anne Carson (just a piece of it)

Suddenly cold I reach down and pull the blanket back up to my chin.
The vocation of anger is not mine.
I know my source.

It is stunning, it is a moment like no other,
when one's lover comes in and says I do not love you anymore.
I switch off the lamp and...
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