Too much self-contemplation will make you not forget anything in your life. Never mind fretting about the mirrors. You have to be truly perverse to understand goodness, and looking endlessly into your own centrifugal self will get you there, quickly. However, I doubt you’ll ever be eloquent enough to understand the opposite point. We get stuck on perverse.– Page read by FARRAH KARAPETIAN.
Posts tagged Joe
We’re not advanced, we’re just better at decorating using myths and symbols. Doubts are not more explicable now, facts aren’t less disconcerting. We’ve always known everything, our ancestors have always known everything, yet we make the same mistakes they made. We march to our tombstones with our bodily eyes looking nowhere, a little more gray, a little more complacent.– Page read by NORA MENKEN.
Am I an inept artist? No, just dishonest and predictable. There is no secret formula to be an artist, you just have to do a good job at it and share it in the end, that’s all. There are no shortcuts. Charlatanism + ecstasy=lazy art, right?– Page read by NICHOLAS FENNESSY.
We live frugally and then we say goodbye, that’s the goal. In reality we always aspire to quit everything, and we repetitively ask for forgiveness. Life says goodbye to us instead. And then we turn to dust. The end — Page read by CHRIS PARIS.
Waiting with a quivering lip for answers, I melted after a string of non-words. Life is impossible at low temperature, that’s why I reached the conclusion that Silence cannot accept normal temperatures and therefore it is doomed to fall.– Page read by MAT GLEASON.
How smart are you and I? Under duress, we become too obsessed with survival issues, neglecting creativity and love. If we stop analyzing, pondering, figuring out, measuring and weighting every issue we will become smarter. I know, you don’t believe me, do you?– Page read by SEAN RILEY.
My muse went away to a distant place. I will be a little worthier of you now and a little less worried about my own unity. I will finally unlearn all my hobbies. I know the answer already: stop making the world better.– Page read by VALERIE NOELL.
It’s always been hard to be bohemian. Is it harder now? Does art matter anymore? Does reading matter anymore? We want to be digitally liked. We stray away from reality and don’t feel sorry about it. Who can survive this? I’m going to take a shower now.– Page read by JEREMY MIKUSH.
Quit pretending you’re weaker than you are. What are you ashamed of exactly? When you fill better after being ill you will be thankful. It happens all the time. You will then forget what you went through. It happens all the time.– Page read by BRETT AMORY.
My great expectations have completely dissolved. The cause of it was me, the fault of it was mine. There are many things that I may regret in this world where no one regrets anything. But I think I’ll go for a walk instead.– Page read by TEMPE WILLIAMS.
Is he the right man? I’m ashamed to answer him. If he would solve every single problem he would not be any less worried. However, nothing can be really solved anymore. So he’s not really suffering from having problems: he is the problem.– Page read by CHRISTOPHER NOXON.
–Me: What do eyes make you think of?
You: Time, Anemia, ghosts.
Me: You are not special, the world doesn’t owe you anything.
You: My eyes are still adjusting.–
Page read by LAUREN HARRINGTON.
Beauty is everywhere where we cannot be. We’re always peering through a hole, wanting that rich summer growth on the other side. We know that side better than ours. Everything is colorless and complicated here, everything is dumb and tenderless. Where did my old, simple promise go?– Page read by OLIVIA APPLEGATE.
Attention please! Distraction has broken into your dwelling and and has taken everything: your pretty emotions, your inherited opinions, your creativity savings, the sheets, your scattered appreciation for beauty. Note: You will not be able to leave anything to anyone in your will. PS: You better not die anytime soon until you recover something back.– Page read by NAOMI YAMADA.
A few years ago we could die without exceeding the minimum of vulgarity that seems indecorously unavoidable right before passing. But today that tiny level of vulgarity before passing is not kept to a minimum anymore, it has become its own single reality. We die in the most vulgar, insipid, and trivial way. I refuse going out that way.– Page read by SUSAN LANGFORD.