May 2013
12 posts
“Marry your best friend. I do not say that lightly. Really, truly find the...”
– N’tima (via godmoves)
“Perhaps that is precisely what life is: a dream and an anxiety.”
– Alfred Kubin (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“I think sometimes people forget just how lucky we are. We are alive. We have...”
– (via inspirinquotes)
“What strange phenomena we find in a great city, all we need do is stroll about...”
– Charles Baudelaire (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change...”
– Marty Mcconnell (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“You’re the only girl I’ve seen for a very long time that actually did look like...”
– Fitzgerald (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of...”
– Frida Kahlo (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“The one thing the world will never have enough of is the outrageous.”
– Salvador Dali (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“She was a sweet girl but not really pretty, a rough sketch of a woman with a...”
– Guy de Maupassant (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
April 2013
42 posts
Who needs an alibi?: dyspepsia (extract) →
alibis-not-needed-anymore:
The three bench-warmers sat still through the afternoon. There was nowhere else Elodea would rather have been, except possibly with Saidye or Xiola, even though Xiola was mad with her and Saidye was snappable. Her mind was clear, except she kept coming back to the valentine she had written for…
“A good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything.”
– Irish proverb (via rainydaysandblankets)
“I literally don’t know your middle name. Does that
matter? What systems we...”
– Marty McConnell (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“What you are is a complicated girl with simple needs. You need someone—not to...”
– Brian Morton (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“In a way, you are poetry material; you are full of cloudy subtleties I am...”
– Franz Kafka (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
portrait (xxxvii)
alibis-not-needed-anymore:
her face is a sunflower (open, lovely, and framed by gold) but she is the sun: everyone turns to look at her.
“i didn’t mean to make an angel out of you but when you take away the body the...”
– Lucy (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
she was not great at living but boy she could...
alibis-not-needed-anymore:
when i am dead you can plant my bones like tulip bulbs
+ if spring gives way to black buds, then— well— there’s the answer.
i’m not sure anymore if inside i am a garden or a battlefield.
“It is a terrible thing
To be so open: it is as if my heart
Put on a face and...”
– Sylvia Plath (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“I just want to know for certain that when
I get out of bed the world isn’t...”
– maddishly (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“He felt it too, the air between us, the invisible lines that something or...”
– Sara Zarr (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
“In conversation you arrive at things you wouldn’t necessarily think of without...”
– Betsy Sussler, BOMB magazine chief editor
oh xiola, xiola
alibis-not-needed-anymore:
you are a million more types of beautiful than the eight hundred you cannot see in yourself
your body is the front line; hunger is the thumping guns. there is no victory, not even in six ribs or eight, in bones no and not in notches on a scale, oh xiola
let him love you (but first, learn to love yourself)
when the battle’s lost // when the war’s won with the...
“I taught him, ‘he quavered, “to trust in love. I said:’when...”
– ― E.M. Forster, A Room with a View
“I want to stand knee-deep in the ocean of you.”
– Bill Shaner (via alibis-not-needed-anymore)
the-apology-peach:
When the flood came,
I forgot how to swim.
Did I ever learn?
Will I ever learn?
Sometimes the waves
are gentle, the water cool,
but I can feel the sand
slipping beneath my feet,
and when I open my eyes
underwater, it doesn’t hurt
to look at the sun.
(Yet the salt still stings.)
Drowning has a way
of making you feel
light and heavy
at the same time.
When the...
A Portrait of the English Major as a Young Woman:... →
englishmajormade:
“Cut” by Sylvia Plath
for Susan O'Neill Roe What a thrill ----
My thumb instead of an onion.
The top quite gone
Except for a sort of hinge Of skin,
A flap like a hat,
Dead white.
Then that red plush. Little pilgrim,
The Indian's axed your scalp.
Your turkey wattle
Carpet rolls Straight from the...
Who needs an alibi?: 20 hours (little spoon... →
alibis-not-needed-anymore:
the ceiling fan’s crooked prongs prompt me to hum bad pop songs (i am not good at expressing myself, & worse, around you i am barely mothertongue i know you can write well, you say, it’s okay just not today— just not tonight)
how many ways can i tell you “this is maybe the nicest thing ever” or…
