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🫀

@cigarettecase / cigarettecase.tumblr.com

noa, 21. law student • attempting life, everyday, again and again
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Wanna see some actual numbers on this bc of another post. I’m curious.

Also yes I know categorization of race is complicated especially outside US contexts etc. etc. I just wanna know how comparatively cracker-dominant this site is, this ain’t a census survey.

If you white-mixed its up to you what to choose I ain’t measuring your genealogy or some shit.

Reblog this, maybe even multiple times, to increase response pool and visibility.

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89words
“I fell in love with the idea that the mysterious thing you look for your whole life will eventually eat you alive.”

Laurie Anderson explaining her attraction to Moby-Dick 

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shaggymemes

fascinating that when you tell people "you have to learn the rules to break them" when talking about drawing/painting etc everyone nods and agrees but the second you say "you have to read books if you want to write better" there's a horde of contrarians begging to be the wrongest people ever all of a sudden

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reblogged
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kunosoura

what's the opposite of feeling sand slip through your fingers because I feel this poem more and more as time passes

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You tasted it. Isn't that enough? Of what do you ever get more than a taste? That's all we're given in life, that's all we're given of life. A taste. There is no more.

Philip Roth, The Dying Animal

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ykno the thing about poetry is that 99% of it is bullshit and the other 1% will cut you like a material knife, and for every person that 1% is a different section of the whole. this is probably true about all art.

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“What is desire? Desire is a restaurant. Desire is watching you eat. Desire is pouring wine for you. Desire is looking at the menu and wondering what it would be like to kiss you. Desire is the surprise of your skin. Look - in between us now are the props of ordinary life - glasses, knives, cloths, Time has been here before. History has had you - and me too. My hand has brushed against yours for centuries. The props change, but not this. Not this single naked wanting you.”

Jeanette Winterson, from The White Room 

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There is supposed to be a place where no one can reach you. Traditionally, the home, but now we settle for the ocean, the airplane, the summit of a mountain, the middle of a lake, the shower, the womb, the grave