My favorite short stories:

Der Sandmann
William Wilson
Fall of the House of Usher
The Childhood of a Leader

queen of the fishermen

She sailed ship and landed in the most perfect place in the world. She sat down and watched the trees sing. And she learned that love is like the guitar you teach yourself to play. She bent down to collect the horn-shaped flowers that could not keep up with the rhythm of the dancing trees. From her palms, they flew away with the wind, blowing their own melody like the French Horn in the Orchestra. She falls asleep to their song, and in her dream, she begins to board her ship, but sees a landbridge North of the mountains.

mark ronson is one of the best-looking men alive

Dear S

Hear me write with the plume from my vest
Not with my pen but with my hands
Those that gave birth to the child in your chest
And fingers that paint your face with sand
With nails that scratch away at the glazing of my breast
All to tell you to come back to land

je vais et je viens

I found a Serge Gainsbourg CD at the second-handed store today. It made my slow-paced day even more delightful. Sitting on the 24sex, I experienced what I have experienced hundreds of times before. You open your mouth to breathe it in and your mind closes off. We have been living in paradise for the past half decade. The closest thing to this four years ago was the white-trash Jersey shore. I would have gone crazy living near the Jersey shore.

On some days, my mind trails far off as I bike around and my eyes pick up on the aroma of wind and sunshine. Then I set my body down to watch the leaves sleep.

At age 220, I am a tired old woman about to leave sb.

maps

Niam Niam: the Cannibal Map of the World




The Surrealist Map of the World

bord de mer

j'habite au bord de mer aussi. c'est l'histoire de ma vie aussi. mais le fin, cela sera pas un fin joyeux comme lequel de marie.

after seeing this film i now have more existential holes to fall into like a blind woman. i harbour an overall nausea toward life and other people. my daily activities bore me to death and i wonder if i'd enjoy what other isla vistans do - seems like a lot of fun. but i already know that i'd just end up on a 2x2 platform surrounded by the ocean and watching everyone else. and i do thoroughly enjoy my quotidian activities. everyone i encounter i want to look him/her in the eyes and say "hey fuck you." yet it's pretty human to want to continously meet people such as this nonetheless.

with age, this nausea grows and pours into your body ounce by gallon. it becomes more intricate and different illnesses tie together delicately yet boldly like a web.

we all wait and think we'll get our three lemons someday. it's theoretically possible - but we'll all die before we can get those three lemons.