Secretly

I like to walk.

Will you bring me the notebook tomorrow?

Asked Caroline. She always asks that before a crucial day.
The person mentioned here would look like a short, petite, two pony
tailed girl but this picture was a wasted frame
With bad hair and bad clips she wanted to gain my attention
Wait, bad everything. That is Caroline. 
Instead of saying “No, I don’t think I would want to give you my book, because nobody really talks to you, so will I not.”
I say, “Sure! Of course! Do you even have to ask? You can take my book any time!”
Why, isn’t sharing a good deed than to just show yourself
to be an ignorant bitch because that’s what the world calls ‘cool’
and you feel a tremendous pressure to achieve that level of ‘coolness’. They say. Everybody says. Sharing keeps you satisfied and full.
I say to myself when Caroline asks for my notebook. 
The notebook thankfully consists of blank pages and few doodles by
my ex boyfriend who is not a living person anymore because he had to ‘find his way’ and this life for him held nothing. I sometimes think he
did some sort of voodoo? Is that possible, I think. I only live on his suicide letter his old grandmother passed down to me because she
saw me crying one afternoon when I was holding my abdomen and looking myself in the mirror. Stomach cramps. Not him. Who’d tell
the old lady?
And that evening, I asked for fried onion rings and chicken
lollipops because you know, why not, food. It was overdone and oily.
Just how I like it. She, the old grandmother of my dead ex boyfriend, asked me to get some tea and I broke her chinese teapot.
"This is not my home, I need to rush!"
I wanted to blow my brains out and think about a white
page and few blobs of ink on my face covering certain spots
on the face, its extremely weird and casual if you think.
"Banks are extremely depressing." I say. 
Now I see blobs of ink on people. The sexy woman from the neighbourhood, with her unimaginably horrible push up bra
(that her breasts didn’t seem normal to me) and blobs of ink
pasted on her nose, cheeks, lips. 
Or the schizophrenic kid from the third block who once threw a shoe
at me because I refused to kiss his neck. 
He says, “Yo, stay away maybe.” and handed me over a perfectly
made joint.
That’s all right, I realized its only a way of caring. An elusive form of sharing.

Or maybe..

nateswinehart:

Being good to each other is so important, guys.

viperslang:

Shirin Neshat.

viperslang:

Shirin Neshat.

(via howitzerliterarysociety)

سليمة مراد - ذوب و تفطّر

visualtraining:

Salima Pasha Murad - ذوب و تفطّر

This is a very early recording, from 1930, by Salima Pasha Murad, a popular Iraqi singer. Her style of singing is noticeably different from her Egyptian contemporaries Oum Kalthoum and Asmahan. The recording is somewhat fuzzy and deteriorated so when I asked my dad to translate the title, he couldn’t quite make it out but he told me it is something like “awake and break the fast.”

(via mizoguchi)


Vincent Van Gogh, detail of View of Paris

Yayoi Kusama with Infinity Mirrored Room - Love Forever installed for the 1966 solo exhibition Peep Show/Endless Love Show at Castellane Gallery, New York

Yayoi Kusama with Infinity Mirrored Room - Love Forever installed for the 1966 solo exhibition Peep Show/Endless Love Show at Castellane Gallery, New York

(Source: foxesinbreeches, via atributos)

By Carol Rossetti.

Janis Joplin talks about rejection four days before she died in 1970

and-i-made-a-blog:

My friend, I.

My friend, I. 
I live with my puffed eyes and warm mouth. 
I live inside. An abyss. 
Rainbows and crooked lanes, the abyss.
Hard potatoes and loose jeans, dark abyss.

Forget figures in between, forget things that feel.
Just high speed and incessancy. 
And no end. So always. 

So. A Sauvignon on toast. For my friend, I. 
Or warm milk.

Anonymous said: Send yourself anons?

That’s a fucking brilliant idea! 

Count from December to August man. Look around a bit.
Stalk away tho. ;)

Chaka Khan wearing the C-section scar from her baby as a badge of honour!

Chaka Khan wearing the C-section scar from her baby as a badge of honour!

The really jazzy Billie.
Sade.

Anonymous said: What makes u smile?

I recently got to do something like this with unknown friends. It made me smile. Then, I ate bad sandwiches.