i just realized with the mass twitter exodus there’s a slightly-higher-than-before chance that the real edzo will find my blog
How can a person be normal about the lord of the rings how can you experience that whole story with that ending and then just go on with your life
till the embers smoke on the ground.
why are drugs even illegal anymore. who cares
» (what indeed is finally beautiful, except Death and Love?)
— Walt Whitman, from ‘Scented herbage of my breast’ in Calamus, Leaves of Grass (via soracities)
» I fell in love. Or, more accurately, I realized, and accepted for the first time that love was not merely a general, human possibility, nor merely the disaster it had so often, by then, been for me—according to me—nor was it something that happened to other people, like death, nor was it merely a mortal danger: it was among my possibility, for here it was, breathing and belching beside me, and it was the key to life. Not merely the key to my life, but to life itself.
— James Baldwin, from “Take Me to the Water,” in No Name in the Street (via firstfullmoon)
Though, sometime,
I must have fallen in love,which took more room
than contemplating death,and the slow, sad pleasure
of knowing it wouldn’t lastmore beautiful, even,
than imagining it would.— Maya C. Popa, from “Wittgenstein in the Palisades,” American Faith
“Perhaps here, in ever increasing age, [Galway] Kinnell is realizing how fluid the existence in the phrase tenderness toward existence is, how in dying there remains a kind of life, how in birth there exists a kind of dying. This realization, on Kinnell’s part and on the part of all who have realized or continue to realize it, takes great courage. It makes an acknowledgement up front: that death is another one of life’s open doors, rather than the door that shuts off life. It is a turning into rather than a turning from.”— Devin Kelly, from his essay “A Small Dislocation”, published in Poetry North West, August 22, 2019
Andre Dubus, “On Charon’s Wharf”, Broken Vessels: Essays (transcript below)
“The most paradisiacal human trait is that we are inevitably surprised by death’s reality, despite its inevitability. The death of someone whom you love is a discovery of Death in the abstract as well as the particular: the appearance of disappearance, not only of the dead person, but of yourself. A quicksand pause: the absence of yourself from time. The sense of being ejected from time’s usual flow is common among the grieving, from my anecdotal polling. A writer who also lost a brother young, and violently, told me that at some point—he did not give a date or duration that must be exceeded—I would “rejoin time,” but, he added, if my experience turned out anything like his, some days, even decades later, would be “that first day after again.” Time, I suspect, will never move as it did before, even after I step back into it.”— Elisa Gonzalez, from “Minor Resurrections: On failing to raise the dead” (The Point #28)
whyamionlyabletouse32characters:
im so bored forever can i pleaaaseeeee have divine visions nowww
when i die i will be converted into a beautiful pdf
btw there’s no right answer here but there is a wrong answer. choose wisely
djo:
I googled “fun” the other day. “…what provides amusement or enjoyment.” That’s what it means. I am currently opening a restaurant that’s providing zero amusement or enjoyment.
THE BEAR
2.03: Sundae