-The Satyricon, Petronius, 61 A.D
The quotation from the Satyricon serves as Eliot’s preface to The Waste Land; and Petronius is referencing Ovid’s Metamorphoses. The Sybil asked for as many years as grains of sand in her hand, picking up a handful of dust. But she forgot to ask not to age, and after hundreds of years she is nothing but a voice (a breath: the ancients viewed life as air) in a jar, wanting to die.
You will stay up on your rooftop until sunlight peels away the husk of the moon,
chainsmoking cigarettes and reading Baudelaire, and
you will learn that you only ever want to fall in love with someone
who will stay up to watch the sun rise with you.
You will fall in love with train rides, and sooner or later you will
realize that nowhere seems like home anymore.
A woman will kiss you and you’ll think her lips are two petals
rubbing against your mouth.
You will not tell anyone that you liked it.
It is beautiful to love humans in a world where love is a metaphor for lust.
You can leave if you want, with only your skin as a carry-on.
All you need is a twenty in your pocket and a bus ticket.
All you need is someone on the other end of the map, thinking about the supple
curves of your body, to guide you to a home that stretches out for miles
and miles on end.
You will lie to everyone you love.
They will love you anyways.
One day you’ll wake up and realize that you are too big for your own skin.
Don’t be afraid.
You are a hurricane-prone area.
The glass breaks often.
It’s okay. I promise that the breeze here is wonderful.
|—||“Here’s What Our Parents Never Taught Us,” Shinji Moon (via vlorin)|
|—||André Breton (via whatokay)|
|—||Warsan Shire (via mermaidcunt)|
|—||Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale (via helplesslyamazed)|
Kurt Cobain’s journal.
|—||The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald (via karkthescallywag)|
- Our conversations are starting to get shorter.
- It’s harder to find something for us to talk about.
- It doesn’t even feel like it’s affecting you.
- At least tell me if you don’t want to talk any more instead of making me feel like I did something wrong.
- I just miss how we were before.
|—||Buddha (via bellalovescoffee)|
Lately the words haven’t sounded pretty. And I’m not sure why I get so frustrated and upset over this fact. And it’s incredibly hard to explain because it’s all in my head. But when the words don’t sound pretty, I don’t want to talk to anyone or hear anyone. Everyone and everything gets so annoying. Even having hands feels annoying. It’s like why do I have hands. And this is so hard to explain right now. And it must sound awfully silly that I’m annoyed by having hands, but its more of a big picture type of thing. You guys could never understand so I’m just going to go sleep.
|—||Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via sixrevolver)|
|—||Buddhist (via zauberdeslebens)|
|—||Starra Neely Blade (via dandeliondreamers)|