Living for the Rush...the Feeling of Power Derived from Achievement...

...in your birthday suit? Why? Is ALL desire libidinal? Or merely the "pervert's" desire? Power doesn't HAVE to be directed libidinally, does it?

Zoned Out...Reliving a Moment Never Lived instead of Making a Moment Actually Lived and Worth Reminiscing

Holding On...

'F the Pines!

Beyond the Pines

Colours of Paris

Circles - Post Inspired by "The Good Doctor"

Monsters...

“Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age. The child is grown, and puts away childish things. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.”

― Edna St. Vincent Millay

Unreliable...

4 Leaf Clover

Living Delusional Existences...

... in the sweet hereafter. The Veil of Innocence restored.

Love's Song

How can I keep my soul in me, so that
it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise
it high enough, past you, to other things?
I would like to shelter it, among remote
lost objects, in some dark and silent place
that doesn't resonate when your depths resound.
Yet everything that touches us, me and you,
takes us together like a violin's bow,
which draws *one* voice out of two separate strings.
Upon what instrument are we two spanned?
And what musician holds us in his hand?
Oh sweetest song.

- Rainer Maria Rilke, "Liebeslieb"

Bright Eyes, Too?

He heard a voice none else could hear
From centred and from errant sphere.

--Emerson

Listen...


God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

-Rainer Maria Rilke, “Go to the Limits of Your Longing” (Book of Hours, I 59)

The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
"Jug Jug" to dirty ears.

t.s. eliot, "The Wasteland"

Let's Go...

Dilly Dali

David Bowie - Born January 8, 1947

Gone Into Hiding...

...Swingin' Out...

Sleeping in...

"Speaking Terms"

Oh, don't say it now
Wait, don't just give up
Move from your old house
This city can be so loud

Say what you gotta
Sleep in somehow

Inside of reverie how do you know
When you've gone too far?
And it's all ash and dust
Well then I won't let you to take me for a ride

Say what you gotta
Sleep in somehow
Leave things on speaking terms
And I'll see you around

It's all ash and dust
I won't you let you take me for a ride
And it's all over us
And still I won't let you take me for a ride