It starts as a harmless poke to my shoulder. Never a serious matter for when I turn to question you, you respond with a bright smile and remind me that it is all friendly.
Your fingerprint begins to stain my shoulders and I turn to inquire your motivations. Quickly I am shut it down cause it’s nothing serious, just a nudge.
Times pass and the skin that you torment is bruising, the pain pulsates although out my body.
Your hand is tainted crimson with my ooze but still you address me with a smile, after all it’s just a nudge.
You burry your way through my skin and uncover the most fragile parts of my being. The foundation that I am built on is disrupted by your omnipotent presence that chips away at me.
I garner up the courage to question your antics as my bones begin to splinter.
But there is no body to restore me, I am spoilt beyond recovery.
there should be punishment to those that robbed me of my youth. i cannot shake the feeling that i deserved far better
— dissociation
the book of disquiet by fernando pessoa // a breath of life by clarice lispector // againts the mass of the night by kaye donachie // how to dissapear completely by radiohead // normal people by sally rooney // rené magritte // virgina woolf // by me // enrico robusti
I feel, so tired.
Ive always thought that j was content with my socail circle. Ive a lot of acquaintances and everyone knows my name. Adults consider me charming and im more than often invited out.
Still i have no one.
Say prehaps a book that is covered in emerald green flowers lays ahead of you. Its pages bent and the spine of it ceased. This book has been pages through a few times but its beauty is retained. You would look at this book and understand that it is not a quick read merely by its thickness. Tis only when you open the book would you realise that its writting is miniature, almost requiring a magnifying glass.
Although this novel is garenteed to interest and change your life, the minor inconveniences make you flee. Leaving the book to be engulfed by ratchet vines that suffocate it.
To make the outside of the book would be the solution to making this novel more captivating. This belief in itself opposes the notion that media presents.
I am not good enough… for i can be better, as toxic as it is, it seems to be a solution nonetheless
Les deux orphelines vampires (Jean Rollin, 1997)
𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥
Robert Pattinson as ᴇᴅᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴄᴜʟʟᴇɴ × Kristen Stewart as ʙᴇʟʟᴀ ꜱᴡᴀɴ (dir. Catherine Hardwicke • 2008)
“I love that moment when I look back at a challenge in my life and realize I’m now at peace with it!”
— Unknown
Television is not the truth. Television’s a god-damned amusement park. Television is a circus, a carnival, a traveling troupe of acrobats, storytellers, dancers, singers, jugglers, sideshow freaks, lion tamers, and football players. We’re in the boredom-killing business. So if you want the Truth, go to God! Go to your gurus. Go to yourselves! Because that’s the only place you’re ever gonna find any real truth. But, man, you’re never gonna get any truth from us. We’ll tell you anything you wanna hear. We lie like hell... And no matter how much trouble the hero is in, don’t worry. Just look at your watch. At the end of the hour, he’s gonna win. We’ll tell you any shit you want to hear.
We deal in illusions, man. None of it is true! But you people sit there day after day, night after night, all ages, colors, creeds. We’re all you know. You’re beginning to believe the illusions we’re spinning here. You’re beginning to think that the tube is reality and that your own lives are unreal. You do whatever the tube tells you. You dress like the tube, you eat like the tube, you raise your children like the tube. You even think like the tube. This is mass madness. You maniacs. In God’s name, you people are the real thing. We are the illusion. So turn off your television sets. Turn them off now. Turn them off right now. Turn them off and leave them off. Turn them off right in the middle of this sentence I am speaking to you now. Turn them off!
– Network (1976)
It starts as a harmless poke to my shoulder. Never a serious matter for when I turn to question you, you respond with a bright smile and remind me that it is all friendly.
Your fingerprint begins to stain my shoulders and I turn to inquire your motivations. Quickly I am shut it down cause it’s nothing serious, just a nudge.
Times pass and the skin that you torment is bruising, the pain pulsates although out my body.
Your hand is tainted crimson with my ooze but still you address me with a smile, after all it’s just a nudge.
You burry your way through my skin and uncover the most fragile parts of my being. The foundation that I am built on is disrupted by your omnipotent presence that chips away at me.
I garner up the courage to question your antics as my bones begin to splinter.
But there is no body to restore me, I am spoilt beyond recovery.