August 30, 2018

I am the unknown whispers of the dark hallways I tread, The darkness, how it disintegrates into a deeper one, leaving the world shallower, How many ghosts breathe inside my skin, how pale my veins beat, I have no idea if I can taste mornings anymore, as if I have been walking in an everlasting night.

Channing M
The Monochrome of Darkness

An interesting new soup

August 30, 2018

so messy

August 30, 2018

It’s all so messy: her hair, the bed, our words and hearts; life!

She is a thousand pages

August 30, 2018

She is a library. A mess of words. Of thoughts unspoken. She is a thousand pages, all waiting to be read. Touched.

All she needs is for someone to take her off the shelf.

Monica Lynn
She’s the kind of book only the heart could understand

She Said

August 28, 2018

She said she will,
but doesn’t mean she wants too.
She said she can,
but doesn’t mean she needs too.
She said “not now”
But it didn’t stop you.

Jillian McLean

Two's company

The famous courtesan Clarimonde died recently, as the result of an orgy which lasted eight days and eight nights. It was something infernally magnificent. They revived the abominations of the feasts of Belshazzar and Cleopatra. Great God! what an age this is in which we live! The guests were served by swarthy slaves speaking an unknown tongue, who to my mind had every appearance of veritable demons; the livery of the meanest among them might have served as a gala-costume for an emperor. There have always been current some very strange stories concerning this Clarimonde, and all her lovers have come to a miserable or a violent end. It has been said that she was a ghoul, a female vampire; but I believe that she was Beelzebub in person.

Théophile Gautier
Trans. Peedeel


August 28, 2018

“My God,” he gasped, “you’re fun to kiss.”

F. Scott Fitzgerald
Tender Is The Night


August 26, 2018

Chaos out of you

August 26, 2018