August 2011
113 posts
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I’ve reached a new low—considering leaving bed to make a burrito.
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“Leroy’s reasoning is dry as a razor, and Chantal agrees: love as an exaltation...”
– Milan Kundera, identity
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“She shut her eyes: the sweet word ‘promiscuity’ came to her mind and suffused...”
– Milan Kundera, identity
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“There on her narrow bed, she did not sleep as well as he thought; her sleep was...”
– Milan Kundera, identity
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“And Chantal revises her old metaphor: it is not an immaterial, poetic rose...”
– Milan Kundera, identity
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johncollege:
Duke Ellington and John Coltrane-In...
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“this tongue, these
lips the lightning
over the unchartered
landscape of...”
– Roberto Tejada, from “Still Life” (via proustitute)
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Sleeping in jorts for the third consecutive night
this is what happens to me under stress.
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