Not mine

“And here are trees and I know their gnar­led sur­face, water and I feel its taste. The­se scents of grass and stars at night, cer­tain evenings when the heart rela­xes – how shall I nega­te this world who­se power and strength I feel? Yet all the know­ledge on earth will give me not­hing to assu­re me that this world is mine.”

Albert Camus: The Myth of Sisy­phus

When the music’s over

“When the music’s over
Turn out the lights. (…)

Can­cel my sub­scrip­ti­on to the resur­rec­tionSend my cre­den­ti­als to the hou­se of detenti­onI got some fri­ends insi­deThe face in the mir­ror won’t stopThe girl in the win­dow won’t dropA feast of fri­ends, ali­ve she criedWai­tin’ for meOut­side
Befo­re I sinkInto the big sleepI want to hearI want to hearThe scream of the but­ter­fly”
© The Doors / When the music’s over

Living with Dark­ness

“One thing I know,” you said, “is that the lon­ger you spend in dark­ness, the easier it is for that dark­ness to beco­me rea­li­ty. It takes form, it gains life. I’ve spent a lot of time in dark­ness, Aaron, so much so that I’ve chur­ned it up and stir­red it to the sur­face and made it this real, tan­gi­ble thing. It lives along­side me.”

– ‘Come with Me’ / Ronald Mal­fi

Des­pair

“For the sad­ness gene­ra­ted by the Dream was almost more than he could bear, a deep des­pair that nega­ted ever­ything good that had hap­pen­ed in his life, that wiped out the joy of his wife and his child­ren and brought him back emo­tio­nal­ly to that dark, dark day.

The fear was bad, but it was far pre­fera­ble.
He expe­ri­en­ced that fear now, an emo­tio­nal vesti­ge of the Dream even more lasting than the night­ma­re images that remain­ed in his head. It was ter­ror and panic and impo­tence and fru­stra­ti­on, all knot­ted tog­e­ther in a sin­gle over­whel­ming fee­ling that would not got away.”

[Bent­ley Litt­le, The Haun­ted]

I am coming home

A door in a small town in Navar­ra

“And though my mind is cut by batt­les
fought so long ago
I return vic­to­rious
I am coming home
And if the paths that I have fol­lo­wed
have tread against the flow
the­re is no need for sor­row
I am coming home”

[The Crüx­sha­dows, ‘Return’]

Bewa­re the Avera­ge Man (Bukow­ski)

 

“Bewa­re
The Avera­ge Man
The Avera­ge Woman
BEWA­RE Their Love

Their Love Is Avera­ge, Seeks
Avera­ge
But The­re Is Geni­us In Their Hat­red
The­re Is Enough Geni­us In Their
Hat­red To Kill You, To Kill
Any­bo­dy.”

[Excerpt: the geni­us of the crowd; Ch. Bukow­ski, Essen­ti­al Bukow­ski]

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