Latest Posts by gothphrodite - Page 12
“I feel like we, in fact, live more than once, in multitudes. Like every moment, every day, every week, every month, every year. It’s almost forever. I know life seems long and painful sometimes, and short and painful other times. It’s a collection of experiences that only you have and each experience accumulates and is constantly expanding, like the universe. So I encourage you to keep an open mind about the largeness of your life because I’m excited about it and I hope you are too.”
— Sufjan Stevens Prospect Park July 18th, 2017
drunk witch vibing, creating a thotty homoculus in a bubbling cauldron: premarital sex, 100 gecs. dollskill haul in the mail, snails and puppy dog tails. bone dry puss, snap score = sus. fuck the weed man for an edible, say his dick game incredible.
tiny homonculus giving her best angles in her 30$ boohoo clubwear fit:
When we killed what we were to become what we are, what did we do with the bodies? We did what most people do; buried them under the floorboards and got used to the smell. I’ve lived my life like a serial killer; finish with one part, strangle it and move on to the next. Life in neat little boxes is life in neat little coffins, the dead bodies of the past laid out side by side. I am discovering, now, in the late afternoon of the day, that the dead still speak.
Jeanette Winterson, from “Gut Symmetries,” published c. 1998 (via violentwavesofemotion)
Élégant chers au repos à côté d'un étang
Louis Émile Adan (French, 1839–1937)
Oil on canvas
I think we have to do forbidden things- otherwise we suffocate. But without feeling guilty and instead as an announcement that we are free.
(via amargedom)
“Ever since I could remember, I had feared being found wanting. If I did the work I wanted to do, it was certain not to measure up; if I pursued the people I wanted to know, I was bound to be rejected; if I made myself as attractive as I could, I would still be ordinary looking. Around such damages to the ego a shrinking psyche had formed: I applied myself to my work, but only grudgingly; I’d make one move toward people I liked, but never two; I wore makeup but dressed badly. To do any or all of these things well would have been to engage heedlessly with life — love it more than I loved my fears — and this I could not do. What I could do, apparently, was daydream the years away: to go on yearning for “things” to be different so that I would be different.”
— Vivian Gornick, The Cost of Daydreaming - NYTimes.com (via arabellesicardi)
TRAVEL DESK SET
Ivory, Malachite, Silver-gilt
1849
AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN
The set comprises one twin-bottle inkstand with central bowl, one velvet covered letter box with key, one velvet covered blotter, one paperweight cast as a dragon, one inkwell shaped as a turret with dragon finial, one bell with carved ivory handle, one pen rest, one chamber candlestick with a cast dragon handle, one tapering vase, one paper-clip with a cast dragon, two photograph frames, one candle-snuffer and one paper-knife.
were looking at metaphysical items on ebay
what she says: I’m fine What she means: the haunted mask episode of goosebumps was about a girl who was sick of being victimized by boys so she rejects her entire identity both physically and personally to become monstrous, while carrying around an idol of her past self mounted on a stick. to get herself back she must fight off her demons by loving her true self, represented again by the head figure. self love could not be attained without first accessing monstrosity in self defense
“Boredom is different nowadays. It’s about super-saturation, distraction, restlessness. I am often bored but it’s not for lack of options: a thousand TV channels, the bounty of Netflix, countless net radio stations, innumerable unlistened-to albums, unwatched DVDs and unread books, the maze-like archive of YouTube. Today’s boredom is not hungry, a response to deprivation; it is a loss of cultural appetite, in response to the surfeit of claims on your attention and time.”
— Simon Reynolds, Retromania: Pop Culture’s Addiction to Its Own Past