The Hippogriff and the Blue Bird

Out of the sea will rise Behemoth and Leviathan, and sail round the high-pooped galleys, as they do on the delightful maps of those ages when books on geography were actually readable. Dragons will wander about the waste places, and the Phoenix will soar from her nest of fire into the air. We shall lay our hands upon the basilisk, and see the jewel in the toad`s head. Champing his gilded oats, the Hippogriff will stand in our stalls, and over our heads will float the Blue Bird singing of beautiful and impossible things, of things that are lovely and that never happen, of things that are not and that should be. But before this comes to pass we must cultivate the lost art of Lying.

Oscar Wilde

"Este inutil să fim nostalgici: am întemeiat un alt mod de organizare, care a creat un sistem liniar, ireversibil acolo unde existau formă circulară, circuit, reversibilitate. Trăim şi apoi murim, iar acesta este cu adevărat sfârşitul".

Jean Baudrillard

They gave me a medal for dreaming of you. But that won`t solve much since we`re not in the army and glory isn`t what it used to be. They say, just stick your head into a subject and it will reveal itself to you. I say stick to yourself and reveal nothing. Anger and wisdom, what a comic mixture of bad faith and good humor. Since sounds are just shivering air, i tremble with anticipation knowing that, in the face of disaster, we are all the same. Booom.

why does my heart feel so bad...

"Your soul bored itself into mine as a worm into an apple, and it ate and ate and burrowed and burrowed until nothing was left but the outside shell and a little black dust".

"Sunt un ghem de substanţă iritabilă."

Angels in America

Cu siguranţă voi fi acuzat că nu am ţinută. Mi-ar plăcea să nu am ţinută. Dar nu e uşor. Lipsa de ţinută este semnul eroului. Mă refer la o lipsă de ţinută în care se amestecă cifre, facturi de hotel şi rufărie murdară.


Jean Cocteau

good taste...the liberating avoidance of the obvious

the things you thaught me

How the goddess swallows
Our love and terror
I step through origins
Old work-whore, slave-blood
Blown to bits
Every layer they strip
Was recoverd salty and white
But the wet centre is bottomless.
All that i believe
That happened there
Was a vision
And mine to dispose with
Now it`s gone.
Always in between
What you would like to happen and
What will
Was it you
Or the ball that kept going
Beyond you, amazingly
Higher and higher
Focused and drawn in
As we went sailing evenly across
The you and the me and the it of it.
I am the artful voyeur
Of your brain exposed
Next time will be the last
As we are launched right off the earth
Dependent on the invisible air
To keep us airborne and bring us
Further.
I grew out of all this
The appetities of gravity
You lose more of yourself than you redeem
No man can tell you
No wise man can tell you
Otherwise
A nine-to-five man who has seen death.

Midnight advice

There isn`t one single problem i haven`t solved in my head, or at least thought it over, while washing the dishes. So, if you don`t feel like doing the dishes on a daily basis, just let`em pile up...never know when they`re gonna work their magic. Chances are you`re gonna end up eating with a plastic fork from a cardboard box you saved and made it resemble a plate with a little twist of the scissors. But that`s a small price to pay for illumination.