Words, Words, Words

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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby windowflowers » Wed Feb 11, 2015 12:02 pm

"And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions, but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal in their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they're nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we'd be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing."

Sputnik Sweetheart, Murakami
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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby fountainstairs » Sat Mar 07, 2015 3:00 pm

“She was wearing a pair of my pyjamas with the sleeves rolled up.
When she laughed I wanted her again. A minute later she asked me if I loved her.
I told her it didn't mean anything but that I didn't think so. She looked sad.
But as we were fixing lunch, and for no apparent reason, she laughed in such a way that I kissed her.”

― Albert Camus, The Stranger
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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby oldtrailmix » Thu May 28, 2015 2:36 am

this is fantastic and needs to be seen/heard by more people

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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby dull » Fri May 29, 2015 11:44 pm

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
and nobody finds the
but keep
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else

"alone with everybody" - Charles Bukowski
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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby odradek » Sun May 31, 2015 12:26 pm

i always try to find this yves klein letter for reference it and always have a hard time doing so, so here it is:

President of the International Conference for the Detection of Nuclear Explosions

Honorable President, Distinguished Delegates,

I take upon myself in complete humility, but also in full conscience of an artist, to present a proposition to the board of directors of your Conference with regard to atomic and thermonuclear explosions. This proposition is quite simple: to paint A- and H-bombs blue in such a manner that their eventual explosions should not be recognized by only those who have vested interests in concealing their existence or (which amounts to the same thing) revealing it for purely political purposes but by all who have the greatest interest in being the first to be informed of this type of disturbance, which I deem to say is all of my contemporaries. All I need is the position and the number of A-bombs and H-bombs and a remuneration, to be discussed, that ought, in any case, to cover:
—The price of colorants.
—My own artistic contribution (I will be responsible for the coloring—in blue—of all future nuclear explosions).

It is quite clear that we shall exclude cobalt blue as being notoriously radioactive and that we shall use only Klein Blue, which has earned me the celebrity of which you are undoubtedly aware.

Although I am fully occupied with my current work, notable with creating the ambiance of the great Gelsenkirchen Opera House, the humanitarian aspect of my proposal seems to me to have priority over any other considerations. Do not think, however, that I am among those who place art after matter. Quite to the contrary, its disintegration allows for the most spectacular monochrome realizations that humanity, and I dare say, the cosmos itself will have known.

In this double effect, I remain, distinguished sirs, your very devoted,

Cc: His Holiness the Dalai Lama; His Holiness the Pope Pius XII; President of the League of the Rights of Man; Director of the International Committee of Peace; Secretary General of the United Nations; Secretary General of UNESCO; President of the International Federal of Judo; Editor-in-Chief of the Christian Science Monitor; Bertrand Russell; Dr. Albert Schweitzer.

P.S. It is clear that not only the explosions but also the “fallouts” ought to be inalterably tinted in blue by my IKB procedure.

[Translation by Klaus Ottmann]
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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby frogosaurus » Fri Jun 05, 2015 7:16 pm

Vonnegut on the bombing of Dresden, eerie shit:

Every day we walked into the city and dug into basements and shelters to get the corpses out, as a sanitary measure. When we went into them, a typical shelter, an ordinary cellar usually, looked like a streetcar full of people who’d simultaneously had heart failure. Just people sitting there in their chairs, all dead. A firestorm is an amazing thing. It doesn’t occur in nature. It’s fed by the tornadoes that occur in the midst of it and there isn’t a damned thing to breathe. We brought the dead out. They were loaded on wagons and taken to parks, large, open areas in the city which weren’t filled with rubble. The Germans got funeral pyres going, burning the bodies to keep them from stinking and from spreading disease. One hundred thirty thousand corpses were hidden underground. It was a terribly elaborate Easter-egg hunt. We went to work through cordons of German soldiers. Civilians didn’t get to see what we were up to. After a few days the city began to smell, and a new technique was invented. Necessity is the mother of invention. We would bust into the shelter, gather up valuables from people’s laps without attempting identification, and turn the valuables over to guards. Then soldiers would come in with a flamethrower and stand in the door and cremate the people inside. Get the gold and jewelry out and then burn everybody inside.

Later on:

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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby okayfruit » Fri Jun 05, 2015 8:59 pm

"Yet I could think of no shell or petal whose color and shape resembled them. They were the nails on a girl’s fingers, comparable to nothing else. More translucent than a delicate shell, than a thin petal, they seemed to hold a dew of tragedy. Every day and every night her energies were poured into the polishing of this tragic beauty. It penetrated my solitude. Perhaps my yearning, my solitude, transformed them into dew."

- Yasunari Kawabata, “One Arm”
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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby mahi-mahi » Tue Jun 23, 2015 7:29 pm

I looked at the stars, and considered how awful it would be for a man to turn his face up to them as he froze to death, and see no help or pity in all the glittering multitude.
Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby sid3000 » Mon Jul 18, 2016 3:48 pm

a POEM, from a book im reading;

1) I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in. I am lost...I am hopeless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

2) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I'm in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

3) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in...it's a habit
My eyes are open
I know where I am
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

4) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I walk around it.

5) I walk down another street.

- "Autobiography in Five Chapters"
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Re: Words, Words, Words

Postby wolflarsen » Mon Jul 25, 2016 1:15 pm

Chani Nicholas turned me into an astrology person:

It feels as though we will either breakthrough or break beyond repair. We must keep pushing forward. Keep coming back to ourselves. Digging deeper. Understanding our own pain more acutely. Understanding when outside events match our inside experiences. Understanding the archetypal experiences that we are living out in our personal lives. Understanding what threatens us, what gets us riled up, what makes us reach for our weapons instead of our wisdom. Understanding how none of us are ever really that far from being the worst rendition of ourselves. Neither are we far from being the best.

We are both.

At all times. Always. We are as extreme as the times we live in. To forget this is to be in danger of going unconscious to the violence within us. To forget this is to go unconscious to the pain we are capable of reproducing. To forget this is to forget a part of ourselves. An important part. A part that, if used consciously, can create long-lasting and permanent positive change.
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