It was the Myth of Fingerprints

  • 24th
  • July
  • 2014

Reliving, Reflections, Reminders

I follow my Devil,
Though he’s finally forgotten me
I know my Devil,
Black and white silhouette
Patterned against months’ memory.
My Devil lives in Brooklyn,
New Amsterdam’s contribution
To a broken heart again re-fused
Broken line divides nostalgia
Nightmare, my Devil bridges the gap
He works for a company
Its slogan posed between fantasy and farce
A new fangled business, he works in imaginary things
Nothing you can hold or throw or hate
I know my Devil better than he knows me
Or who I am most currently
He won’t see a bit of him in me
Though I see my life plastered all over he
Who took from me without a glance
Backwards, forwards, or somewhere in between
I follow my Devil one day every while
To remind myself that I am finally free

  • 18th
  • July
  • 2014
This, too, is how disciplinary power works, by colonizing us from within, so we become the willing inhabitants of the worlds specified by our preferred narratives
Foucault, 1980
  • 12th
  • July
  • 2014
So I ask the American commentators, please stop announcing that Landon Donovan is the “all-time U.S. leading goal scorer.” He is not. With 57 international goals, he’s not even in the Top Five.

The all-time U.S. leading goal scorer is Abby Wambach, with 167 goals, followed by Mia Hamm (158), Kristine Lilly (130), Michelle Akers (105) and Tiffeny Milbrett (100). In fact, Abby Wambach is the all-time leading goal scorer in the world, among all soccer players, male or female.
World Cup Soccer Stats Erase The Sport’s Most Dominant Players: Women (via anaisforthewin)

(Source: thewhatup, via r-colored)

  • 17th
  • April
  • 2014
In a real sense, all life is interrelated.
The agony of the poor impoverishes the rich;
the betterment of the poor enriches the rich.
We are inevitably our brother’s keeper because
we are our brother’s brother.
Martin Luther King, Jr.
  • 28th
  • March
  • 2014
« L’idée de Frontière, on le voit, ne connaît pas de frontières. »
Le Western: approches, mythologies, auteurs - actuers, filmographies
  • 25th
  • March
  • 2014
Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night’s sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting, in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake somebody else up, so that they can feel this way, too.
Lemony Snicket (via psych-facts)

(via farmerjoe)

  • 24th
  • March
  • 2014
The pretty version of what happens when farmerjoe and I sing.




Why does everyone post the boring version with lil choirboys when THIS exists



(via quitequiteblue)

  • 12th
  • March
  • 2014
Love liberates. It doesn’t bind. Love says. ‘I love you. I love you if you’re in China. I love you if you’re across town. I love you if you’re in Harlem. I love you. I would like to be near you. I’d like to have your arms around me. I’d like to hear your voice in my ear. But that’s not possible now. So I love you. Go.’
Maya Angelou (via perfect)

(Source: jordanboboltz, via dancinginodessa)

  • 8th
  • March
  • 2014
One of my philosophy professors lectured wildly about love once, yelling: “When you’re in love with someone, that person is the lighthouse of your universe.” (I scrawled it inside Science and Poetry in pencil—lighthouse of your universe—as if I would ever forget that phrase.) He was a delightful caricature of his position. I could swear he literally tore his hair out while howling at us. He went on, “Nothing means as much without that person.” One of the men in the class repeated, incredulous, half-laughing, “So you’re saying you can’t enjoy, like, a vacation, without someone if you’re really in love with them?” “Of course not.” the professor replied. “Not completely. You recognize beauty, but beauty means less if they don’t witness it with you. Beauty is less. You see something sublime and your first thought is that they should be there with you. It’s not as good without them. They illuminate. They make everything more.
(via albinwonderland)

(Source: lindsey-e, via quitequiteblue)

  • 3rd
  • March
  • 2014
Nihil humanum a me alienum puto, said the Roman poet Terence: ‘Nothing human is alien to me.’ The slogan of the old Immigration and Naturalization Service could have been the reverse: To us, no aliens are human.
― Christopher Hitchens, Hitch-22: A Memoir