"I have always been tormented by the image of multiplicity of selves. Some days I call it richness, and other days I see it as a disease, a proliferation as dangerous as cancer. My first concept about people around me was that all of them were coordinated into a WHOLE, whereas I was made up of a multitude of selves, of fragments. I know that I was upset as a child to discover that we had only one life. It seems to me that I wanted to compensate for this by multiplying experience. Or perhaps it always seems like this when you follow all your impulses and they take you in different directions. In any case, when I was happy, always at the beginning of a love, euphoric, I felt I was gifted for living many lives fully. It was only when I was in trouble, lost in a maze, stifled by complications and paradoxes that I was haunted or that I spoke of my “madness,” but I meant the madness of the poets."
Anais Nin
joyce manor is pretty fucking wild live. i dig.
number one boi crush (I THINK JAKE TOOK THIS, I DUNNO, MAN…photo credit to jake cunningham…i think, maybe, i don’t know…)
seconded. whatta babe.
Thirded for sure.
Reblogged from failuresofspring with 48 notes
while i generally identify more with blair, serena’s on point with this one.
Fitzgerald 4ever.
Reblogged from failuresofspring with 6 notes
Looking through old clothes and I found this.
I made it in 7th grade, adolescent Kurt Cobain obsession era.
The Means of Communication issue of Lapham’s Quarterly contains a fabulous collection of complains and marginal notes by the monks assigned to copy manuscripts in the era before the printing press. With their bitchy complaints—“I am very cold,” “Oh, my hand”—they insert themselves into the holy texts and often, in the process, disrupt the sanctity of the words they’re supposedly copying: “Now I’ve written the whole thing: for Christ’s sake give me a drink.”
Medieval scribes know what’s up.
I LOVE the curses they sometimes put in the colophons.
