Untitled By Reapingwhatwesaw On Flickr.

If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.

Linji Yixuan (via nathanielstuart)

They were red, these pineapples, with traces of the yellow and the green you know of pineapples but much more of an ochre red, blossoms of rust. And they were not the monstrous things you find in supermarkets here, but small, scarcely bigger than an orange, all the better for sneaking into the small spaces where the light made it to the earth. In later months, when I saw a pineapple shining in a cone of sunlight, I would pick my way through the undergrowth, come up beside it, and look up to see what the pineapple could see, to find the sun that found this fruit.

Zia Haider Rahman In the Light of What We Know

Ma hakkasin postitama, et kuidas tõlkida kadakasaksacore inglise keelde, et kas peaks hoopis olema salsakeelne wachholderdeutscher-core sest "omg uskumatu sakslastel on sõna kõige jaoks!!!!11" (höhö joke's on you) või junipergermancore, mis keskmisele inglise keele emakeelena kõnelejale ütleb umbes-täpselt mitte midagi.

Siis tulebki, nagu @mistermooneyes seda juba tegi, lahti kirjeldada, et tegu on esteetika, mis peegeldab kolonialistlikku suhet kohalike ja võimul olijate vahel ja, kuidas oma identiteet tuleb maha salata, et jõuda üldse selle esteetikani. Ja see terve jänese urg vallandus sellest.... et mingid tüübid siin lehel riisuvad igast suvalisi tääge kokku??

Ja ma tean, et see pole mingi uus nähtus. strangeaeon kirjeldas seda, kuidas riisutud ühte kuhja nii queer-eskapism kui ka padukatoliiklased. Ja nüüd seda tohuvapohu vaadata....

Kuidas ma siia jõudsin? Millest ma üldse jahun?

Võib-olla polegi oluline, mis on kadakasaksacore inglise keeles, sest võib-olla ei olegi enam võimalik cottagecore'ist kolonialismi välja juurida

The give-and-take of Western democracies depends on the idea that we can craft political solutions that enable most people to win most of the time. But in a world without growth, we can expect a loser for every winner. Many will suspect that the winners are involved in some sort of racket, so we can expect an increasingly nasty edge to our politics. Most of our political leaders are not engineers or scientists and do not listen to engineers or scientists. Today a letter from Einstein would get lost in the White House mail room, and the Manhattan Project would not even get started; it certainly could never be completed in three years. I am not aware of a single political leader in the U.S., either Democrat or Republican, who would cut health-care spending in order to free up money for biotechnology research — or, more generally, who would make serious cuts to the welfare state in order to free up serious money for major engineering projects. Robert Moses, the great builder of New York City in the 1950s and 1960s, or Oscar Niemeyer, the great architect of Brasilia, belong to a past when people still had concrete ideas about the future. Voters today prefer Victorian houses. Science fiction has collapsed as a literary genre. Men reached the moon in July 1969, and Woodstock began three weeks later. Today’s aged hippies no longer understand that there is a difference between the election of a black president and the creation of cheap solar energy.

Peter Thiel

Every winter an absent joy pains you and you walk under the rain one in two: you and the person you were in another winter. You speak secretly to yourself words you don’t understand because of memory’s inability to retrieve a previous emotion, and because of longing’s ability to add what did not exist to what existed. Such as the tree becoming a forest and the stone a quail, such as being happy in a prison cell you see wider than a public garden, and the past standing waiting for you tomorrow like a loyal dog. Longing lies and it doesn’t tire of lying because it lies truthfully. The lying of longing is a profession. ... It is the fusion of instinct in the conscious and the unconscious. It is lost time complaining of the sadism of the present.

Mahmoud Darwish 'In the Presence of Abence' Translated by Sinan Antoon

I am not going to do the whole Jesus and animals thing. It’s just not my style.

Sarah Burgoyne, Christian Canadian Poet

Apple Trees, Sunset, Eragny, 1896, Camille Pissarro

Medium: oil,canvas

Janis Goodman（British）

Wild in the City   2012  Etching / Engraving on Paper   30 x 40cm   via