May 2013
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Tiyanak
fantasticallore:
Origin: Philippines
Type: Spirit
Tiyanak is a being who takes the form of a crying baby in the jungle, attracting travelers. If one picks it up, it will revert to its demonic shape and attack with its sharp claws and fangs. They also enjoy abducting children. In some stories, it has the ability to fly.
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“This is you. Eyes closed, out in the rain. You never thought you’d be doing...”
– My Life Without Me (2003)
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“We die to each other daily. What we know of other people is only our memory of...”
– T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party (via larmoyante)
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“I have kept her story to retell. It is one of the small legion I carry, each one...”
– Markus Zusak, The Book Thief (via excessivebookshelf)
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gnossienne:
emmadelosnardos asked: How would you define ‘Southern gothic’? I don’t know much about the genre in literature, much less in music.
Oh, how very glad I am that you asked (I shall refrain from spilling forth an entire essay on the matter). Southern Gothic refers to a genre of American literature that focuses on macabre and disturbing themes borne out of the social, cultural, and...
probably the first generation angels would be like first-gen immigrants, who have a hard time adjusting to human culture and always referring to old-world traditions of total obedience and smiting and their proud culture of fratricide. the second-gen would grow up with only the stories, which they think about with a strange mix of amusement, disbelief and horror, because their parents are peculiar...
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“Love makes you see a place differently, just as you hold differently an object...”
– Anne Michaels, Fugitive Pieces (via left-nut)
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“I don’t know what the soul is. But I imagine that somehow our bodies surround...”
– Anne Michaels, Fugitive Pieces (via foronlyever)
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“Time presses down and we panic,
become inventive.
The sky presses down on a...”
– Anne Michaels, excerpt from “Pushed Into The Dark” from The Weight of Oranges (via commovente)
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“I am here to tell you that there are people who have never been defeated.
They...”
– Paulo Coelho. Manuscript Found in Accra (via echo4charlie)
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“We wear clothes, and speak, and create civilizations, and believe we are more...”
– Anthony Marra, A Constellation of Vital Phenomena (via larmoyante)
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“There must be those among whom we can sit down and weep and still be counted as...”
– Adrienne Rich (via larmoyante)
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from Ricky Laurentiis, "Southern Gothic"
poetryeater:
simple pine, oak, grand magnolia, he said they frighten him, that what they hold in their silences silences: sometimes a boy will slip from his climbing, drown but the myth knows why, sometimes a boy will swing with the leaves.
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“There are days I want to track down God,
point to my life, and yell “None of...”
– Clementine von Radics (via adderalldust)
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“This is what love does: It makes you want to rewrite the world. It makes you...”
– David Levithan (via pavorst)
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“On its own, it is a wonder, but viewed in isolation its complexity and very...”
– Brian Cox channels Richard Feynman in this reminder that viewing science through any single lens is an incomplete view of its magnificence. In other words, physics is beautiful, but it’s a periscope view of life’s majesty.
From his new book to accompany the BBC series, Wonders of Life.
via Brain...
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Foreign Words We Could Use in English →
nevver:
Kummerspeck (German) Excess weight gained from emotional overeating. Literally, grief bacon.
Shemomedjamo (Georgian) You know when you’re really full, but your meal is just so delicious, you can’t stop eating it?
Tartle (Scots) The nearly onomatopoeic word for that panicky hesitation just before you have to introduce someone whose name you can’t quite remember.
Mamihlapinatapai...
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growing-orbits:
Kindness
Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. How you ride and ride thinking the bus will never stop, the passengers eating...
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Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal
eating-poetry:
After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, Please come to the gate immediately.
Well — one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. Help, said...
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“Why hold on to memories like open blades?
They will only cut your palms.”
– Clementine von Radics, Love Letters From The Photographs In the Shoe Box Under My Bed (via adderalldust)
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“the year of letting go
of understanding loss, grace of the word ‘no’
and also...”
– Warsan Shire (via commovente) 