“So she had to satisfy herself with the idea of love—loving the loving of things whose existence she didn’t care at all about. Love itself became the object of her love. She loved herself in love, she loved loving love, as love loves loving, and was able, in that way, to reconcile herself with a world that fell so short of what she would have hoped for. It was not the world that was the great and saving lie, but her willingness to make it beautiful and fair, to live a once-removed life, in a world once-removed from the one in which everyone else seemed to exit.”—Jonathan Safran Foer
“Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s poetry.”— J.D. Salinger
“What should I do about the wild and the tame? The wild heart that wants to be free, and the tame heart that wants to come home. I want to be held. I don’t want you to come too close. I want you to scoop me up and bring me home at nights. I don’t want to tell you where I am. I want to keep a place among the rocks where no one can find me. I want to be with you.”—Jeanette Winterson
“Tomas did not realize at the time that metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love.”—The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera (via wnaeem)
“The unreal is more powerful than the real. Because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. Because its only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles. Wood rots. People, well, they die. But things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on. If you can change the way people think. The way they see themselves. The way they see the world. You can change the way people live their lives. That’s the only lasting thing you can create.”—Chuck Palahniuk (Choke)
Eduardo Galeano wrote this four years ago. It still resonates today:
How much longer will horrors be called mistakes? This slaughter of civilians began with the kidnapping of a soldier. How much longer will the kidnapping of an Israeli soldier be allowed to justify the kidnapping of Palestinian sovereignty? How much longer will the kidnapping of two Israeli soldiers be allowed to justify the kidnapping of the entire nation of Lebanon? For centuries the slaughter of Jews was the favorite sport of Europeans. Auschwitz was the natural culmination of an ancient river of terror, which had flowed across all of Europe. How much longer will Palestinians and other Arabs be made to pay for crimes they didn’t commit? Hezbollah didn’t exist when Israel razed Lebanon in earlier invasions. How much longer will we continue to believe the story of this attacked attacker, which practices terrorism because it has the right to defend itself from terrorism? Iraq, Afghanistan, Palestine, Lebanon: How much longer will Israel and the United States be allowed to exterminate countries with impunity? The tortures of Abu Ghraib, which triggered a certain universal sickness, are nothing new to us in Latin America. Our militaries learned their interrogation techniques from the School of the Americas, which may no longer exist in name but lives on in effect. How much longer will we continue to accept that torture can be legitimized? Israel has ignored forty-six resolutions of the General Assembly and other U.N. bodies. How much longer will Israel enjoy the privilege of selective deafness? The United Nations makes recommendations but never decisions. When it does decide, the United States makes sure the decision is blocked. In the U.N. Security Council, the U.S. has vetoed forty resolutions condemning actions of Israel. How much longer will the United Nations act as if it were just another name for the United States? Since the Palestinians had their homes confiscated and their land taken from them, much blood has flowed. How much longer will blood flow so that force can justify what law denies? History is repeated day after day, year after year, and ten Arabs die for every one Israeli. How much longer will an Israeli life be measured as worth ten Arab lives? In proportion to the overall population, the 50,000 civilians killed in Iraq—the majority of them women and children—are the equivalent of 800,000 Americans. How much longer will we continue to accept, as if customary, the killing of Iraqis in a blind war that has forgotten all of its justifications? Iran is developing nuclear energy, but the so-called international community is not concerned in the least by the fact that Israel already has 250 atomic bombs, despite the fact that the country lives permanently on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Who calibrates the universal dangerometer? Was Iran the country that dropped atomic bombs on Nagasaki and Hiroshima? In the age of globalization, the right to express is less powerful than the right to apply pressure. To justify the illegal occupation of Palestinian territory, war is called peace. The Israelis are patriots, and the Palestinians are terrorists, and terrorists sow universal alarm. How much longer will the media broadcast fear instead of news? The slaughter happening today, which is not the first and I fear will not be the last, is happening in silence. Has the world gone deaf? How much longer will the outcry of the outraged be sounded on a bell of straw? The bombing is killing children, more than a third of the victims. Those who dare denounce this murder are called anti-Semites. How much longer will the critics of state terrorism be considered anti-Semites? How much longer will we accept this grotesque form of extortion? Are the Jews who are horrified by what is being done in their name anti-Semites? Are there not Arab voices that defend a Palestinian homeland but condemn fundamentalist insanity? Terrorists resemble one another: state terrorists, respectable members of government, and private terrorists, madmen acting alone or in those organized in groups hard at work since the Cold War battling communist totalitarianism. All act in the name of various gods, whether God, Allah, or Jehovah. How much longer will we ignore that fact that all terrorists scorn human life and feed off of one another? Isn’t it clear that in the war between Israel and Hezbollah, it is the civilians, Lebanese, Palestinian, and Israeli, who are dying? And isn’t it clear that the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and the invasion of Gaza and Lebanon are the incubators of hatred, producing fanatic after fanatic after fanatic? We are the only species of animal that specializes in mutual extermination. We devote $2.5 billion per day to military spending. Misery and war are children of the same father. How much longer will we accept that this world so in love with death is the only world possible?
One of the most evocative poems about prison in the apartheid era. Prison fatalities in the infamous John Vorster detention centre were often justified by excuses like “he fell” or “he slipped while taking a shower”, excuses which could not quite explain the bruises and burns found on the bodies…
He fell from the ninth floor He hanged himself He slipped on a piece of soap while washing He hanged himself He slipped on a piece of soap while washing He fell from the ninth floor He hanged himself while washing He slipped from the ninth floor He hung from the ninth floor He slipped on the ninth floor while washing He fell from a piece of soap while slipping He hung from the ninth floor He washed from the ninth floor while slipping He hung from a piece of soap while washing
What is important about Sharpeville is not that seventy died: nor even that they were shot in the back retreating, unarmed, defenseless and certainly not the heavy caliber slug that tore through a mother’s back and ripped through the child in her arms killing it Remember Sharpeville bullet-in-the-back day Because it epitomized oppression and the nature of society more clearly than anything else; it was the classic event Nowhere is racial dominance more clearly defined nowhere the will to oppress more clearly demonstrated what the world whispers apartheid with snarling guns the blood lust after South Africa spills in the dust Remember Sharpeville Remember bullet-in-the-back day And remember the unquenchable will for freedom Remember the dead and be glad.
“When morning comes, only one of us will control this room, Ghost, and that one will be me. I will be marching its length and width; I will be dancing, not sliding and creeping like you.”—Brave Orchid, The Woman Warrior (via literallyrash)
not. Progress is a comfortable disease: your victim (death and life safely beyond)
plays with the bigness of his littleness —electrons deify one razorblade into a mountainrange; lenses extend unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish returns on its unself. A world of made is not a world of born—pity poor flesh
and trees, poor stars and stones, but never this fine specimen of hypermagical
ultraomnipotence. We doctors know
a hopeless case if—listen: there’s a hell of a good universe next door; let’s go
As it stands, if a guy brags that he fucked a passed-out girl at a party, he’ll probably get high-fived…and the girl will be blamed/laughed at/ostracized. If the reaction to the rapist was, instead, closer to: “You are pathetic. What, you can’t manage to attract a woman who’s awake?” that would go a long way toward changing rape culture.
“I know exactly how that is. To love somebody who doesn’t deserve it. Because they are all you have. Because any attention is better than no attention. For exactly the same reason, it is sometimes satisfying to cut yourself and bleed. On those gray days where eight in the morning looks no different from noon and nothing has happened and nothing is going to happen and you are washing a glass in the sink and it breaks-accidentally-and punctures your skin. And then there is this shocking red, the brightest thing in the day, so vibrant it buzzes, this blood of yours. That is okay sometimes because at least you know you’re alive.”—Augusten Burroughs (Running with Scissors)
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you. It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do. I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you. And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you.
No, I don’t want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don’t want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart) With you (This world is only gonna break your heart)
What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you. What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way. What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you and,
I want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart) No, I want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart) With you.