May 2013
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DIA's art collection could face sell-off to... →
FUCK THIS NOISE. The city is fucked, sure, up a financial shit creek. But if you liquidate one of the only remaining jewels of the city (and it’s a jewel of the WORLD. The last time I went to the DIA a couple of pieces I love looking at were on loan to the LOUVRE) then there is no point in even having a city anymore. Bulldoze everything.
Gathering up my pitchforks and torches. WHO IS WITH...
blennoxx:
this is not a drill it’s time to fuck me I repeat, this is not a drill time to have sex
a poem
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Sonnet
The sea is like an old nature poet who died of a heart attack in a public latrine. His ghost still haunts the urinals. At night he can be heard walking around barefooted in the dark. Somebody stole his shoes. -Richard Brautigan
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I Cannot Answer You Tonight In Small Portions
I cannot answer you tonight in small portions. Torn apart by stormy love’s gate, I float like a phantom facedown in a well where the cold dark water reflects vague half-built stars and trades all our affection, touching, sleeping together for tribunal distance standing like a drowned train just beyond a pile of Eskimo skeletons.
-Richard Brautigan
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The Harbor
Torn apart by the storms of love and put back together by the calms of love, I lie here in a harbor that does not know where your body ends and my body begins. Fish swim between our ribs and sea gulls cry like mirrors to our blood.
-Richard Brautigan
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Remember when Yahoo bought Geocities? That shit turned out great.
(Nobody agrees but I maintain Geocities was the original Tumblr, without the ability to cross-reference.)
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A Greater Gatsby: The Sun Also Rises (Like Your...
In a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway mentioned this as an alternate title for the second printing of The Sun Also Rises.
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I’m reminded every summer that Hell smells not of fire and brimstone but rather of sweaty children and sunscreen.
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“I watched her brushing her hair, holding her head so the weight of her hair all...”
– Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (via justagirlcalledjess)
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“Rock ‘n’ roll is everybody’s fucking music…I would certainly hope that it’s the...”
– Neil Young (via rock-n-roll-is-religion)
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tornblueprints:
Typewriter jazz drips like watercolor into the tear-flooded chambers of your half-hollow heart, And the alleyways on the back of your hand wind like boy scout knots and nooses made by men who sing the blues but everyday save their necks from it Because hand-painted tiles on their mothers’ kitchen floors remind them that they don’t have to be marble monuments to survive ...
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