February 2010
January 2010
Thump | Futility Closet →
The thunder storm of Sunday night — the winding up of one of the most oppressive days ever inflicted on mortal man — was really terrific. The whole firmament growled thunder and shot lightning. It was blinding to look out, and at frequent intervals the thunderbolts burst overhead with a power that shook the solidest structures — then rolled with angry growling along the wings of the storm. St....
In the Middle of the Night « qarrtsiluni →
by Pat Daneman
No one is there for anyone else. Even though that is what we expected. All over the city millions of people guarding their worries like angels. People who don’t deserve worries. People living in boxes. People inexperienced with the politics of worry—should they go to the window or into the kitchen? Is it time for a glass of wine?
The disappointing parent would make a list...
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“This is what I believe: That I am I. That my soul is a dark forest. That my...”
– D.H. Lawrence (Whiskey River, you are amazing) (via crashinglybeautiful)
“Boy, when you’re dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die...”
– J.D. Salinger, from The Catcher In The Rye [ January 1, 1919 – January 27, 2010 ] (via samsaramotel)