(Source: unejeunedemoiselle)

I am so afraid of people’s words.
They describe so distinctly everything:
And this they call dog and that they call house,
here the start and there the end.

I worry about their mockery with words,
they know everything, what will be, what was;
no mountain is still miraculous;
and their house and yard lead right up to God.

I want to warn and object: Let the things be!
I enjoy listening to the sound they are making.
But you always touch: and they hush and stand still.
That’s how you kill.


Rainer Maria Rilke, In Celebration of Me (1909)


Atelier Zumthor. Haldenstein, Switzerland.
Peter Zumthor, 1986
Photo: felipe camus

Bernard Herrmann

I Can’t Sleep / They Cannot Touch Her

(Source: nedhepburn)


Ed Ruscha
Boiling Blood, Fly 1969
nzafro:

Ropes.

1.

why note merely the despaired of
occasion of
wordshed

is it not better abort than be barren

the hours after you are gone are so leaden
they will always start dragging too soon
the grapples clawing blindly the bed of want
bringing up the bones the old loves
socketes filled once with eyes like yours
all always is it better too soon than never
the black want splashing their faces
saying again nine days never floated the loved
nor nine months
nor nine lives

2.

saying again
if you do not teach me I shall not learn
saying again there is a last
even of last times
last times of begging
last times of loving
of knowing not knowing pretending
a last even of last times saying
if you do not love me I shall not be loved
if I do not love you I shall not love

the churn of stale words in the heart again
love love love thud of the old plunger
pestling the unalterable
whey of words

terrified again
of not loving
of loving and not you
of being loved and not by you
of knowing not knowing pretending
pretending

I and all the others that will love you
if they love you

3.

unless they love you


Samuel Beckett, Cascando

(Source: hiniascott)

terrysdiary:

Blue sky #1

Madlib — Deep

(Source: nuuro, via randomitus)

googlestreetscene:

Which way you going, left or right?
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