staring @ the moon

Text ID: I feel a sadness I expected and which comes only from myself. I say I’ve always been sad. That I can see the same sadness in photos of myself when I was small. That today, recognizing it as the sadness I’ve always had, I could almost call it by my own name, it’s so like me.

1. Just - Radiohead / 2. A Primer for the Small Weird Loves - Richard Siken / 3. The Hangover - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec / 4. A House in Nebraska - Ethel Cain / 5. After the Misdeed - Jean Beraud / 6. Abject Permanence - Larissa Pham / 7. You Know I’m No Good - Amy Winehouse

happy tired girl fall to all those who celebrate

— Israel Regardie, The Philosopher’s Stone: Spiritual Alchemy, Psychology, and Ritual Magic

Mahmoud Darwish, A River Dies of Thirst

MICHAEL WOLF, TOKYO COMPRESSION

[text ID: a prayer / i look up at God and see my ceiling staring back at me. / whimpered prayers leaving through the gates of my lips, ricocheting and landing right onto my eyes. / now everything i see is tainted with the colors of my pending longings. / a desire so raw you could still see the specks of blood gathering at seams. / a prayer … / a man on his knees in front of a woman, hands on her hips, holding the cathedral that was neither built nor can be destroyed / lips kissing the source of life / lips kissing the source of light / lips kissing / a   prayer! – a body to crawl into! (to grow into?) / a prayer! – a dead language we refuse to let go of, / a language of the dead that we refuse to let go of / a prayer! – Grandpa’s favorite tie, hanging from the bedroom door, decades after he passed / because my Grandma was the only one of us who knew what a prayer was / a prayer! – Grandma: “sitting with someone until they finish their meal is the purest sign of love” / a prayer! – i’ll sit with you till the very last sip, till the very last grain / a prayer! – a hymn to the Sun written by the coldest of hands / a prayer! – a mouth full of tongues that can never find the right language to weep in / Rage, that is love – rotten! / Rage, that is desire – rotten! / Rage! – like a prayer, unanswered, ricocheting from your ceiling and landing right onto your eyes, never quite reaching where it was meant to.]

Rainer Maria Rilke in a letter to Lou Andreas-Salomé, published in Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: A Love Story in Letters

Pálida Caricia, Emil Melmoth