No Great Illusion

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My writing here.

Send me a letter: nogreatillusion [at] gmail [dot] com

“Some people make us feel more human and some people make us feel less human and that is a fact as much as gravity is a fact and maybe there are ways to prove it, but the proof of it matters less that the existence of it—how a stranger can show up and look at you and make you make more sense to yourself and the world, even if that sense is extremely fragile and only comes around occasionally and is prone to wander or fade—what matters is that sometimes sense is made between two people and I don’t know if it’s random or there is any kind of order to it, what combinations of people work the best and why and how do we find these people and how do we keep these people around, and I don’t know if it’s chaos or not chaos but it feels like chaos to me so I suppose it is.”

—   Catherine Lacey’s Nobody Is Ever Missing is filled with sentences as beautiful as this one. Typing it out was exhausting but also wonderful because I got to revisit it. (via bobbyfinger)

(via meredithbklyn)

bmichael:

Catey Shaw
"Brooklyn Girls"

I don’t think this video is very offensive or noteworthy for what it’s talking about. Brooklyn girls definitely exist. They live along the L (and the F, G, J, Z, M, B, A, C, N, Q, R, 2, 3, 4, 5 and even neighborhoods not poorly served by perpetually off time lumbering airconditioned boxes). They frequently have blue dyed ombre hair and I’ve seen my share of Nets hats. People who say, ‘Ugh’ or ‘threw up in my mouth a little’ are being naive (or have never been to Brooklyn).

The very interesting thing to me about this video is that it is sort of offensive and naive in how hamfisted and gimmicky it seems. And yet, it’s almost indistinguishable from so much advertising and branded media experiences. Brooklyn as a symbol lives off of free Vice-Intel concerts and Johnnie Walker parties and Doc Martens showcases. Sure, there are genuine experiences to be had, but they’re almost always conceived through the same no contrast, flat Instagram filter that frames rooftop parties and stoop sessions. And fucking brunch!

The offensiveness of things like Girls and “Brooklyn Girls” isn’t that they misrepresent Brooklyn because they don’t. It’s that they’ve ossified a relatively extremely boring picture of Brooklyn that only exists for a small but loud sliver of it that conspicuously spends money. The fear is that all the other pictures will either go unnoticed or stop being created.

Mainstream, lamestream, and advertising have utterly converged on the pinprick that is “Brooklyn Girls”.

Fair criticism, but I’m actually into this song. And fucking brunch.

“Living well is the best revenge.

The second best revenge is slowly
over the course of many years
destroying your foe’s faith in their own ideas.

The third best revenge is loosening the salt shaker and
spoiling the risotto.

The fourth best revenge is poison.”

—   Kristin Lueke, “Revenge: The Trilogy,” published in Vector Press (via bostonpoetryslam)

(via othernotebooksareavailable)

mfamb:

florida
jenny andrews anderson

mfamb:

florida

jenny andrews anderson

(via sigh-twombly)

“I believe I am choosing something now
not to suffer uselessly yet still to feel.”

—   Adrienne Rich, from The Dream Of A Common Language  (via fleurstains)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via fleurstains)

redheadbouquet:

these things will be mine sooooooon

Feeling all the looks from Gisela Ramirez.

“I believe
in the violence of not knowing.”

—   Andrew Zawacki, from “I Believe (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via lifeinpoetry)

“You know that when you close your eyes there are termites chewing out of your skull. The soft flutter of moth wings against your occipital bone, the quiet crumbling of anthills. Your head is a glass jar with a stick in it and a few holes poked into the lid. Your head is a locked room, poison seeping across the floors, fog in a field while the moon is wild and glowing.”

—   Joyce Chong, “Entomophobia,” published in Gone Lawn (via bostonpoetryslam)

floatingmemories:

Lisa Sorgini - Discourse with Flowers

(Source: anitaleocadia, via lightsunderdoorways)

“Oh, all right, I say,
I’ll save myself.”

—   Anne Sexton, “Letter Written on a Ferry While Crossing Long Island Sound,” from All My Pretty Ones (via lifeinpoetry)

(via kdecember)

It used to be, you’d open your mouth
And the weather changed. You’d
Open your mouth and the sky’d spill

That dry, missing-someone kind of rain
No matter the season. And it hurt
Like a guitar hurts under the right hands.

Like a good strong spell. Now
You’re all song. Body gone to memory.
And guess what? It hurts

Harder.

—   Tracy K. Smith, closing lines to “Vaya, Camarón,” in Duende: Poems (Graywolf Press, 2007)

(Source: memoryslandscape, via lexluthr)

notafashionbl0g:

Valentino Cruise 2015, inspired by mexican artist Frida Kahlo

notafashionbl0g:

Valentino Cruise 2015, inspired by mexican artist Frida Kahlo

(via lalalatianna)

“And I began to let him go. Hour by hour. Days into months. It was a physical sensation, like letting out the string of a kite. Except that the string was coming from my center.”

—   Augusten Burroughs, You Better Not Cry (via durianquotes)

(Source: durianseeds, via aderive)

Lana Del Rey - Pretty When You Cry

“Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.”

—   Wendell Berry, ”Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front” (via lifeinpoetry)