i want a word for the almost-home.
that point where the highway’s monotony becomes familiar
that subway stop whose name will always wake you from day’s-end dozing
that first glimpse of the skyline
that you never loved until you left it behind.
what do you call the exit sign you see even in your dreams?
is there a name for the airport terminal you come back to,
i need a word for rounding your corner onto your street,
for seeing your city on the horizon,
for flying homewards down your highway.
give me a word for the boundary
between the world you went to see
and the small one you call your own.
i want a word for the moment you know
you’re almost home.
— there and back again, n.m.h.
Rainy drive back home.
Funny, I had quite a bit to say about my day. Deleted it all and left it at that.
-Plus this & that.
"Before my birth there was infinite time, and after my death, inexhaustible time. I never thought of it before: I’d been living luminously between two eternities of darkness."
— Orhan Pamuk, My Name is Red
What is the difference? I asked him. Between the love of your life, and your soulmate?
One is a choice, and one is not.
— Tarryn Fisher (in Mud Vein)
Metropolitan Blood Flow. Photos & Gif By David Hanjani
"I don’t know that we are actually human at this point, those of us who are like most of us, who grew up with TV and movies and now the Internet. If we are betrayed, we know the words to say; when a loved one dies, we know the words to say. If we want to play the stud or the smart-ass or the fool, we know the words to say. We are all working from the same dog-eared script. It’s a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless Automat of characters. And if all of us are play-acting, there can be no such thing as a soul mate, because we don’t have genuine souls. It has gotten to the point where it seems like nothing matters, because I’m not a real person and neither is anyone else. I would have done anything to feel real again."
— Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl
"And one day we will die and our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea, but for now we are young, let us lay in the sun, and count every beautiful thing we can see… Can’t believe how strange it is to be anything at all."
— Jeff Mangum, Neutral Milk Hotel, ‘In the Aeroplane Over the Sea’
I’ll give you the moon and the stars.