We are dancing in the hallow of nothingness. We are one flesh, but seperated like stars.

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Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici

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There goes my hero. He’s ordinary. 

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When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.

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For a long time everybody refuses and then almost without a pause almost everybody accepts.

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She was illusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower; the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to a cork board like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew.

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A careless bird is complicated.

An empty nest still leaves a space.

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As internet culture has grown, we’ve come to romanticize certain kinds of unmeditated, old-fashioned “human” interactions. But this fantasy ignores how much of normal social interaction is fleeting, bite-sized, instant, tweetlike. Humans have always talked to each other via a kind of analog Twitter. These new technologies just get us there with maximum efficiency. Meeting a new person is thrilling, in a primal way- your attention focuses completely, if only for a nanosecond, to see if the creature in front of you has the power to change your life for better or worse. ChatRoulette creates this moment over and over again; it privileges it over actual conversation. Eventually, I realized that clicking “next” was not so much a rejection as it was pure curiosity, like riding a train past an apartment building at night, looking briefly into as many lit windows as possible.

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The Laughing Heart: Charles Bukowski

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In a closed society where everybody’s guilty, the only crime is getting caught.

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Kiss, kiss, bang, bang.

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Be still, my heart.

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