Quotes added on Sunday, February 7 2016
Your Shaking Shoulders,
Prove that it's
Colder,
Inside your
Head
than the Winter of
DEAD.
Prove that it's
Colder,
Inside your
Head
than the Winter of
DEAD.
I am no more responsible for my hunter’s horniness and
craftiness than you are for your seductress’s physical
attractiveness and guile.
Each of us is born into this world and into our bodies apparently without prior intention. Each of us temporarily embodies and manifests patterns evolved over billions of years (or created, depending whom you ask).
We, the self-aware things that think we exist, are nothing more than the tiny, artificial “consciousness” portions of our larger physical beings. Consciousness or “self” is nothing more than a software subroutine of the brain-mind system, if you will. Our consciousnesses take a free ride on the deep physical realities of nature that we have the privilege of participating in but do not create.
Instead of acting all prudish and allowing our artificial consciousnesses to place intellectual limits on our behaviors, we should let our animals be the animals that they are, watch what happens, and enjoy having a front-row seat to the juicy realities of nature.
You should attract me and guide me. I should pursue you and take you.
If either of us pays attention while we do that, please let that attention only be as an observer, not as a driver, not as a controller.
No tiny consciousness could possibly create through its own design the level of complex dirt that nature creates on her own. It’s arrogance to think we can steer nature or surpass her artistry.
We could try to apply the brakes in our own little individual lives, but of what use is that? When we attempt to do so, we only prevent nature from doing with us what she will do without us anyway.
Each of us is born into this world and into our bodies apparently without prior intention. Each of us temporarily embodies and manifests patterns evolved over billions of years (or created, depending whom you ask).
We, the self-aware things that think we exist, are nothing more than the tiny, artificial “consciousness” portions of our larger physical beings. Consciousness or “self” is nothing more than a software subroutine of the brain-mind system, if you will. Our consciousnesses take a free ride on the deep physical realities of nature that we have the privilege of participating in but do not create.
Instead of acting all prudish and allowing our artificial consciousnesses to place intellectual limits on our behaviors, we should let our animals be the animals that they are, watch what happens, and enjoy having a front-row seat to the juicy realities of nature.
You should attract me and guide me. I should pursue you and take you.
If either of us pays attention while we do that, please let that attention only be as an observer, not as a driver, not as a controller.
No tiny consciousness could possibly create through its own design the level of complex dirt that nature creates on her own. It’s arrogance to think we can steer nature or surpass her artistry.
We could try to apply the brakes in our own little individual lives, but of what use is that? When we attempt to do so, we only prevent nature from doing with us what she will do without us anyway.
I think that’s what scares me: the randomness of everything. That the people who could be important to you might just pass you by. Or you pass them by.
Just one more taste
of your lips just to bring me back to the places we've been
and the nights we've had. Cause if this is it then atleast we
can end it right.
You make the darkness less dark;
you make the edges less sharp; you make the winter feel warmer;
you make my weakness less weak; you make the bottom less deep;
you make the waiting feel shorter; you make my crazy feel
normal, every time. You are the who, love is the what, this is
the why.
I swear I’ve written over a dozen times in my head
but the words never found my mouth. But that’s just like
me — inarticulate and constantly halfway out of your
life.
I meant to call but my fingers could never seem to find the courage. Instead, I kept them distracted in the hands of all the wrong people.
“Your eyes never quite look the same twice, and I’m scared for the time when I’ll look and no one will be behind them.”
I never knew what you meant until one night it was 3 A.M. and I caught sight of myself in the mirror and couldn’t tell where I had run off to.
I go to sleep one person and it feels like I’m an entirely different person when I wake up. And you just never understood. It’s so hard to hold on to people when you’re constantly losing yourself.
I meant to call but my fingers could never seem to find the courage. Instead, I kept them distracted in the hands of all the wrong people.
“Your eyes never quite look the same twice, and I’m scared for the time when I’ll look and no one will be behind them.”
I never knew what you meant until one night it was 3 A.M. and I caught sight of myself in the mirror and couldn’t tell where I had run off to.
I go to sleep one person and it feels like I’m an entirely different person when I wake up. And you just never understood. It’s so hard to hold on to people when you’re constantly losing yourself.
I watched a man run his hand up and down his girlfriend’s
spine like a keyboard to keep her warm as they waited for the
bus downtown, she smiled without looking at him and he knew it
so he pulled her close. And I thought about them hours later
– how I hoped they were good to each other and knew just
how lucky they were because there’s not enough of that
kind of love around anymore. —Lucy Quin
