marooned marla

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[i honestly thought… [is there a way of not thinking honestly?]]

“He had established everywhere an ebb, a sorrowful withdrawal.” — Julien Gracq

“But I know what darkness is, it accumulates, thickens, then suddenly bursts and drowns everything.” — Samuel Beckett

“Why did you allow brambles to cover/ That high silence you’d arrived at?” — Yves Bonnefoy

[Image: Edward Hopper, Stairway. 1949)

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Stornoway ~ The Coldharbour Road

i am a seabird, you are the artic ocean; i know your seasons and your sanctuaries. and when i’m wheeling over your wild white horses, i know there’s nowhere else where i belong.

i am a small town, you are a tornado; and down the high street you tear into me, bring down power lines and twist the heart right out of me, leaving my outskirts devastated.

and, as you’re going, tears are flowing. ‘cause, while you’re leaving, i’m still believing.

you are a memory, i am the mind you enter; a single moment in a single bed. this is the feeling you are bringing back to me, of when i was in the cold harbour road.

and, now you’re going, tears are flowing. ‘cause while you’re leaving, i’m still believing it all in the morning; my ears are ringing, as i lie wide awake on the living room floor.

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under the weather

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another long day at the office

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carlosbaila:

Marina Abramovic meets Ulay

“Marina Abramovic and Ulay started an intense love story in the 70s, performing art out of the van they lived in. When they felt the relationship had run its course, they decided to walk the Great Wall of China, each from one end, meeting for one last big hug in the middle and never seeing each other again. at her 2010 MoMa retrospective Marina performed ‘The Artist Is Present’ as part of the show, a minute of silence with each stranger who sat in front of her. Ulay arrived without her knowing it and this is what happened.”

(via horin)

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[empty] commute

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[we already see so much]

via:proustitute:

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[if only I and the little flat could sleep]

via:

kierstenmh:

Well that’s how I feel right now about my days

Broken by the wind and beaten by the waves”

627 plays

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fish & chips

there’s something lovingly simple about slowly fading into the mattress, listening to gorgeous music, on a Saturday evening, while thinking… not much at all, really. and, smiling smiling smiling smiling smiling, because the night is young and you’re home, the night is cold and you’re warm, and your heart is no longer cold, or lacking a hearth.