Loading...
problem loading posts

~ t0xic shocK ~

a story

when i listen to “only” by nine inch nails I think of being in eighth grade and my best friend who made it her myspace profile song when she was dating this older Brazilian boy named Fish. 

Read More

throwback

throwback

what am i doing with my life

what am i doing with my life

I confess I do not believe in time. I like to fold my magic carpet, after use, in such a way as to superimpose one part of the pattern upon another. Let visitors trip. And the highest enjoyment of timelessness— in a landscape selected at random— is when I stand among rare butterflies and their food plants. This is ecstasy, and behind the ecstasy is something else, which is hard to explain. It is like a momentary vacuum into which rushes all that I love. A sense of oneness with sun and stone. A thrill of gratitude to whom it may concern— to the contrapuntal genius of human fate or to tender ghosts humoring a lucky mortal.

Vladimir Nabokov, from Speak, Memory

A window flew open in his brain. It was a window that looked into several worlds at once. It looked into people, into dreams, into the peculiar webbing where the dreams of different people overlapped. It looked into the past, present and future. It looked without order. Whatever it looked out on could slip into it, and sometimes the boy could slip out of it. It was not something he could give words to, but it gave words to him. Sometimes he was conscious of it and sometimes he was not.

 
dreaming awake at the end of time

dreaming awake at the end of time