i love lipstick. i want to write an essay about the politics of lipstick. i like lipstick that’s deep, deep red. i like lipstick that’s purple, lipstick that’s black and dark for when i want to dress up my melancholy. i like sharing lipstick with sisters. and i laugh at boys that think i wear lipstick for them to notice, i laugh, lipstick is an art you can’t ever understand. from picking out a color, testing it on the inside of my wrist, pursing my lips during the application of it. i like when i kiss a baby and leave lipstick on their cheek, when you hug someone and leave lipstick on their shirt, when it gets on your teeth and you use your tongue to get it off, when you sleep in lipstick and wake up with it on your pillow case. in 1997 mama left for ethiopia to see her mama for the first time in 12 years. i was six and i cried the entire way home from the airport. and when we came home there on the kitchen table was the teacup mama had been drinking out of. at the bottom a sip of tea and black cardamom seeds. and there on the rim of the cup the lipstick imprint of my mama’s kiss.
I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn’t have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn’t make for an interesting person. I didn’t want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone. ”
— Charles Bukowski
because someone, somewhere, once told us that we had so much to look forward to. and blindly and feverishly, we’ve all, for years and years and years, listened.
| — | commovente |
By the time i’ve finished with you, you won’t know whether you’ve been kissed or cut, whether you were loved or butchered. and either way you probably won’t care, just grateful you came close enough to touch.
| — | Warsan Shire, “under their breath, someone said.” |
Some people underestimate how erotic it is to be understood.
“
| — | Mary Rakow |
I could start fires with what I feel for you.
“
| — | David Ramirez, Fires |
私は愛されるよりも何も望んでいない。
I wanted nothing more than to be loved.
知られるように、尊重されるように。
To be known and to be respected.
小さい怪物のように扱われることがありす
To be treated less like a monster—
多くの人間のように。
—and more like a human.
How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?
| — | Virginia Woolf, from Selected Essays |
the color of low self esteem
what i never
learned
from my mother
was that
just because someone desires you
does
not mean they value you.
desire is the kind of thing that
eats you
and
leaves you starving.
Make no mistake about it — enlightenment is a destructive process. It has nothing to do with becoming better or being happier. Enlightenment is the crumbling away of untruth. It’s seeing through the facade of pretense. It’s the complete eradication of everything we imagined to be true.
| — | Adyashati |
Whatever purifies you is the right path, I will not try to define it.
| — | Rumi |
Everyone’s just looking for reasons to wake up and get out of bed, some do it for nothing but a kiss, perhaps a cup of coffee, others have a harder time; no train to catch, no hand to hold, no reasons at all.
Don’t explain your philosophy. Embody it.
“
| — | Epictetus |
Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.
| — | Albert Camus |
Don’t just be yourself, be all of your selves.
Tell me how old you were when you first realised no one will ever give you exactly what you need to feel okay. And now tell me how many years since then that you’ve been looking for them anyway
This months horoscope, CAPRICORN: do you have a way out? can you see any exits? are there exits?
Being an artist means forever healing your own wounds and at the same time endlessly exposing them.
I sit before flowers
hoping they will train me in the art
of opening up
| — | The Student, Shane Koyczan |
“Human beings are the only animals who have to work, and I think that is the most ridiculous thing in the world. Other animals make their livings by living, but people work like crazy, thinking that they have to in order to stay alive. The bigger the job, the greater the challenge, the more wonderful they think it is. It would be good to give up that way of thinking and live an easy, comfortable life with plenty of free time. I think that the way animals live in the tropics, stepping outside in the morning and evening to see if there is something to eat, and taking a long nap in the afternoon, must be a wonderful life. For human beings, a life of such simplicity would be possible if one worked to produce directly his daily necessities. In such a life, work is not work as people generally think of it, but simply doing what needs to be done.”
Masanobu Fukuoka
Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.
| — | Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine |
I am half agony, half hope.
| — | Jane Austen |
We waste so many days waiting for weekend. So many nights wanting morning. Our lust for future comfort is the biggest thief of life.
There is a certain kind of girl who reads Lolita at fourteen and finds religion. I painted my eyes black and sucked barroom cherries to red my tongue. There was a boy who promised Judas really did love Jesus. I learned early every kiss and betrayal are up for interpretation.
| — | Clementine von Radics. |
No matter where I go, I still end up me. What’s missing never changes. The scenery may change, but i’m still the same incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that i can never satisfy. I think that lack itself is as close as i’ll come to defining myself.
| — | Haruki Murakami |
Fuck my face
Fuck my name
They are brief and false advertisements
For a soul I don’t have
| — | Conor Oberst from False Advertising |
What cannot be said will be wept.
| — | Sappho |
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