your naked body

August 27, 2019

I like to think of you naked.
I put your naked body
Between myself alone and death.

Kenneth Rexrothe
Between Myself and Death

the land of dreams

August 27, 2019

in the land of dead dreams all shout — “yes, yes! no, no! more, more! stop this, stop that! do this, do that! do the fandango, do the bunny hop.

in the land of dead dreams there are shameful body aromas and different customized body styles.

in the land of dead dreams, everyone is equal, until someone punches
the clock enough to get a gold star, then they are allowed to keep punching the clock until they die.

in the land of dead dreams, hope is a commodity exchanged for desire exchanged for good will exchanged for a thousand free minutes on AOL.

in the land of dead dreams everything counts; three strikes—your out, second in line, a one-in a million-in-one, 7.8 % on all non-food items, $10.00 co-pay, 6% annual interest compounded daily by the hour or by the minute, each and every second of each and every day the clock ticks and your heart beats faster and faster . . . there’s something in the basement . . . the lights don’t work. . . . there is a gurgling sound . . . you know you must go into the darkness of the basement, alone . . . . .

in the land of dead dreams kingdoms are constructed on or in excrement, cigars, and telescope steam.

in the land of dead dreams . . . no that’s somewhere else.

in the land of dead dreams you have different clothes and special foods for every different occasion, and all the streets are the same name with the same gas station gourmet coffee gift taco shop every three blocks.

in the land of dead dreams, there is “the new white meat” for brighterwhiter bones and bigger badder teeth.

in the land of dead dreams, to get to the super bowl is what life is all about . . . that, and a good cold one, ay?

in the land of dead dreams there are endless options all based on one true-false questionnaire given at birth.

Kari Edwards

You were with Margo Roth Spiegelman last night? At THREE A.M.? I nodded. Alone? I nodded. Oh my God, if you hooked up with her, you have to tell me every single thing that happened. You have to write me a term paper on the look and feel of Margo Roth Spiegelman’s breasts. Thirty pages, minimum! I want you to do a photo-realistic pencil drawing. A sculpture would also be acceptable. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to write a sestina about Margo Roth Spiegelman’s breasts? Your six words are: pink, round, firmness, succulent, supple, and pillowy. Personally, I think at least one of the words should be buhbuhbuhbuh.

John Green
Paper Towns

Powerful

August 27, 2019

She is destructively powerful, like wind out of breath, the colour of black and red roses.

Zbigniew Herbert
The King of the Ants: Mythological Essays

I wrote the book in narrative order and wrote the end last. I decided to write through the night. I’d never done this before, so it felt fruitful in its originality at least. I had the house to myself. I lit candles, turned off lights and tried to summon death.

I wrote for hours, until the sun came up. I wrote from every angle – others watching Tessa die, inside her head, dark tunnels, bright lights… I had to get rid of all the clichés by writing through them and I had to get rid of the critic (who often sits on my shoulder). In the morning, I had 22,000 words and my arms ached, but I knew the end was in there somewhere.

I opened all the curtains and because I’d told friends what I was planning, I got lots of supportive phone calls and then went out for breakfast. I didn’t look at the words for two weeks, which really allowed time for reflection. When I read through them again, I knew what to do.

Jenny Downham
Interview with ‘The View From Here’ October 2008

Reliable news source

August 27, 2019

My only reliable news source nowadays is the ferocious Freudian symbolism of my dreams –

People who’ve never read fairy tales, the professor said, have a harder time coping in life than the people who have. They don’t have access to all the lessons that can be learned from the journeys through the dark woods and the kindness of strangers treated decently, the knowledge that can be gained from the company and example of Donkeyskins and cats wearing boots and steadfast tin soldiers. I’m not talking about in-your-face lessons, but more subtle ones. The kind that seep up from your subconscious and give you moral and humane structures for your life. That teach you how to prevail, and trust. And maybe even love.

Charles de Lint
The Onion Girl