Song The weight of the worldis love.Under the burdenof solitude,under the burdenof dissatisfaction the weight,the weight we carryis love. Who can deny?In dreamsit touchesthe body,in thoughtconstructsa miracle,in imaginationanguishestill bornin human—looks out of the heartburning with purity—for the burden of lifeis love, but we carry the weightwearily,and so must restin the arms of loveat last,must rest… Continue reading Allen Ginsberg
I feel my heart ache, but I’ve forgotten what that feeling means. — Chuck Palahniuk, Choke. (Anchor June 11, 2002)
Hinged to forgetfulness like a doorshe slowly closed out of sight,and she was the woman that I loved,but too many times she slept likea mechanical deer in my caresses,and I ached in the metal silenceof her dreams. — Richard Brautigan, “Hinged to forgetfulness like a door,” Rommel Drives on Deep Into Egypt. (Delacorte Pr January… Continue reading Richard Brautigan
My bones are ringing the way sometimes people say their ears are ringing, I’m so tired. — David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest. (Back Bay Books; 1st Paperback Ed edition February 1, 1997)
One minute was enough, Tyler said, a person had to work hard for it, but a minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection. You wake up, and that’s enough. ― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club. (W. W. Norton August 17, 1996)
Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter could be said to remedy anything. — Kurt Vonnegut
As the bruises fade, the lightning aches.Last week, making love, you bit me.Now the blue and dark have goneand yellow bruises grow toward pale daffodils,then paler to become until my bodyis all my own and what that ever got me. — Richard Brautigan, “As the Bruises Fade, the Lightning Aches,” Rommel Drives On Deep Into… Continue reading Richard Brautigan
I have emotionsthat are like newspapers thatread themselves. I go for days at a timetrapped in the want ads. I feel as if I am an adfor the sale of a haunted house: 18 rooms$37,000I’m yoursghosts and all. — Richard Brautigan, “Real Estate,” June 30, June 30. (Delacorte Press; 1st edition August 1978)
The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way… Continue reading David Foster Wallace
The essential is never to arrive anywhere, never to be anywhere. The essential is to go on squirming forever at the edge of the line, as long as there are waters and banks and ravening in heaven a sporting God to plague his creature, per pro his chosen shits. I’ve swallowed three hooks and am… Continue reading Samuel Beckett
The Vale of Soul-Making 