bigmouthedwoman

If I'm not eating, laughing, fucking or reading then I'm probs wishing I were

21 notes &

I have a longing for life, and I go on living in spite of logic. Though I may not believe in the order of the universe, yet I love the sticky little leaves as they open in spring. I love the blue sky, I love some people, whom one loves you know sometimes without knowing why.
Fyodor Dostoevsky, in The Brothers Karamazov (via letters-to-lolita)

(via femmeviva)

318 notes &

And now all my past humiliations became precious parts of my experience , and for the first time, leaning against that stone wall in the sweltering night, I began to accept my past and, as I accepted it, I felt memories welling up within me. It was as though I’d learned suddenly to look around corners; images of past humiliations flickered through my head and I saw that they were more than separate experiences. They were me; they defined me. I was my experiences and my experiences were me, and no blind men, now matter how powerful they became, even if they conquered the world, could take that, or change one single itch, taunt, laugh, cry, scar, ache, rage or pain of it.
Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man (via fuckyeahexistentialism)

894 notes &

I feel like my past is interfering with my present and there’s nothing I can actually do. I feel there’s just nothing. I’m unable to think clearly and I’m clearly unable to not let things affect me. Unable to force my brain to function, unable to just get to feel calmer in some way. I need some peace of mind and I need you to be here. I hate needing anything and yet I do […]
Simone de Beauvoir, from a letter to Jean-Paul Sartre (via violentwavesofemotion)

0 notes &

But even then, towards the end, when they had been fighting so much, he still never saw her as anything but a direct, literal invention of God’s, dropped into his life for reasons he would never know. And on that account - a sort of religious intuition or faith about her - he could not get over having lost her.
The Man in the High Castle
Phillip K. Dick

286 notes &

Make no mistake about it — enlightenment is a destructive process. It has nothing to do with becoming better or being happier. Enlightenment is the crumbling away of untruth. It’s seeing through the facade of pretense. It’s the complete eradication of everything we imagined to be true.
Adyashanti (via quietasides)

(via goddesswithinyou)

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The presence that thus rose so strangely beside the waters, is expressive of what in the ways of a thousand years men had come to desire. Hers is the head upon which all “the ends of the world are come,” and the eyelids are a little weary. It is a beauty wrought out from within upon the flesh, the deposit, little cell by cell, of strange thoughts and fantastic reveries and exquisite passions. Set it for a moment beside one of those white Greek goddesses or beautiful women of antiquity, and how would they be troubled by this beauty, into which the soul with all its maladies has passed! All the thoughts and experience of the world have etched and moulded there, in that which they have of power to refine and make expressive the outward form, the animalism of Greece, the lust of Rome, the reverie of the middle age with its spiritual ambition and imaginative loves, the return of the Pagan world, the sins of the Borgias. She is older than the rocks among which she sits; like the vampire, she has been dead many times, and learned the secrets of the grave; and has been a diver in deep seas, and keeps their fallen day about her; and trafficked for strange webs with Eastern merchants: and, as Leda, was the mother of Helen of Troy, and, as Saint Anne, the mother of Mary; and all this has been to her but as the sound of lyres and flutes, and lives only in the delicacy with which it has moulded the changing lineaments, and tinged the eyelids and the hands. The fancy of a perpetual life, sweeping together ten thousand experiences, is an old one; and modern thought has conceived the idea of humanity as wrought upon by, and summing up in itself, all modes of thought and life. Certainly Lady Lisa might stand as the embodiment of the old fancy, the symbol of the modern idea.The Mona Lisa described by Walter Pater

The presence that thus rose so strangely beside the waters, is expressive of what in the ways of a thousand years men had come to desire. Hers is the head upon which all “the ends of the world are come,” and the eyelids are a little weary. It is a beauty wrought out from within upon the flesh, the deposit, little cell by cell, of strange thoughts and fantastic reveries and exquisite passions. Set it for a moment beside one of those white Greek goddesses or beautiful women of antiquity, and how would they be troubled by this beauty, into which the soul with all its maladies has passed! All the thoughts and experience of the world have etched and moulded there, in that which they have of power to refine and make expressive the outward form, the animalism of Greece, the lust of Rome, the reverie of the middle age with its spiritual ambition and imaginative loves, the return of the Pagan world, the sins of the Borgias. She is older than the rocks among which she sits; like the vampire, she has been dead many times, and learned the secrets of the grave; and has been a diver in deep seas, and keeps their fallen day about her; and trafficked for strange webs with Eastern merchants: and, as Leda, was the mother of Helen of Troy, and, as Saint Anne, the mother of Mary; and all this has been to her but as the sound of lyres and flutes, and lives only in the delicacy with which it has moulded the changing lineaments, and tinged the eyelids and the hands. The fancy of a perpetual life, sweeping together ten thousand experiences, is an old one; and modern thought has conceived the idea of humanity as wrought upon by, and summing up in itself, all modes of thought and life. Certainly Lady Lisa might stand as the embodiment of the old fancy, the symbol of the modern idea.

The Mona Lisa described by Walter Pater

2 notes &

I look at him and he at me. It’s horribly quiet. But he doesn’t look unfriendly or anything. Actually quite friendly and relaxed. I have no idea why. I guess I could ask. Perhaps I’m afraid of the answer. But that’s definitely not a reason to leave someone, just because he sits there, looks at you, and doesn’t say anything. There must be a better reason than that. Maybe their love faded. If you really want to promise something worthwhile, try this: I will stand by you even if I no longer love you. Now that’s a promise. That really means forever. In good times and in bad. It’s certainly bad times when one person no longer loves the other. To stay only as long as there is love is not good enough if you have children.
Wetlands Charlotte Roche

119 notes &

On 'structural' oppression

piercepenniless:

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Phrases often take on lives of their own. I noticed this when reading a social media conversation where a queer friend said to a straight person “you do not experience structural homophobia, so…” It got me thinking about what that ‘structural’ is doing in that sentence. The ‘structural’ has…