the world is alive now, in and outside our home

Ragged Wood Originally uploaded by geetarooman

pull your little arrows out and let me live my life

Metric - Sick Muse.

I hate you because you are unrealized

From Personal, by Ian Bassingthwaighte:

"I have nothing but time. Did you ever think, as child, that you’d have too much time? Every happy moment ever lived is over in a blink – recess, childhood, romance. Have you considered if this is strange? God is playing a prank us. Do you see it? Have you laughed yet? The only moments that linger are the ones you wish would pass quickly. I have many such moments and so it seems as if I have already lived forever..."

Go read the full text @ Adbusters.

a sky that expands even as it falls apart

Love at Thirty-two Degrees, by Katherine Larson.

I

Today I dissected a squid,
the late acacia tossing its pollen
across the black of the lab bench.
In a few months the maples
will be bleeding. That was the thing:
there was no blood
only textures of gills creased like satin,
suction cups as planets in rows. Be careful
not to cut your finger, he says. But I’m thinking
of fingertips on my lover’s neck
last June. Amazing, hearts.
This brachial heart. After class,
I stole one from the formaldehyde
& watched it bloom in my bathroom sink
between cubes of ice.

II

Last night I threw my lab coat in the fire
& drove all night through the Arizona desert
with a thermos full of silver tequila.

It was the last of what we bought
on our way back from Guadalajara—
desert wind in the mouth, your mother’s
beat-up Honda, agaves
twisting up from the soil
like the limbs of cephalopods.

Outside of Tucson, saguaros so lovely
considering the cold, & the fact that you
weren’t there to warm me.
Suddenly drunk I was shouting that I wanted to see the stars
as my ancestors used to see them—

to see the godawful blue as Aurvandil’s frostbitten toe.

III

Then, there is the astronomer’s wife
ascending stairs to her bed.

The astronomer gazes out,
one eye at a time,

to a sky that expands
even as it falls apart

like a paper boat dissolving in bilge.
Furious, fuming stars.

When his migraine builds &
lodges its dark anchor behind

the eyes, he fastens the wooden buttons
of his jacket, & walks

outside with a flashlight
to keep company with the barn owl

who stares back at him with eyes
that are no greater or less than

a spiral galaxy.
The snow outside

is white & quiet
as a woman’s slip

against cracked floorboards.
So he walks to the house

inflamed by moonlight, & slips
into the bed with his wife

her hair & arms all
in disarray

like fish confused by waves.

IV

Science—

beyond pheromones, hormones, aesthetics of bone,
every time I make love for love’s sake alone,

I betray you.

everything was beautiful and nothing hurt

Marco Brambilla's Civilization.

(via bb)

yokohama, japan

Originally uploaded by yuki*
(via syntheticpubes)

shot in the back of the head

Moby - Shot In The Back Of The Head. Video by David Lynch.

and I want to walk around with you

Animal Collective - Summertime Clothes.

(via stereogum)

sunday cephalopods

Session Two Originally uploaded by Aayla!

a routine malaise, just like yesterday

Grizzly Bear - Two Weeks.

(via stereogum)