This blog does not belong to a selachimorpha of any kind
(It belongs to Ethan Ashley).


Quote

Apr 6, 2014
@ 1:20 pm
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2,159 notes

The problem is no longer getting people to express themselves, but providing little gaps of solitude and silence in which they might eventually find something to say. Repressive forces don’t stop people from expressing themselves, but rather, force them to express themselves. What a relief to have nothing to say, the right to say nothing, because only then is there a chance of framing the rare, or ever rarer, the thing that might be worth saying.

— Gilles Deleuze, “Mediators” (via allisonburtch)


Video

Mar 8, 2014
@ 1:54 pm
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309 notes

theparisreview:

Listen to William S. Burroughs read his novel Naked Lunch.


Text

Mar 8, 2014
@ 1:54 pm
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problem with living with others

can’t have a crossdressing tea party spur of the moment.


Photo

Feb 21, 2014
@ 3:16 pm
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11 notes


Text

Feb 8, 2014
@ 1:47 pm
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4 notes

logik

A tornado is the sky’s warrant for an execution.

An execution is a show of humanity for those who doubt their own blood.

Blood is opaque in a liar and clear in those who tell the truth.

Truth is a stripe of blackened text.

Text is a series of symbols that arise from a conceited exorcism.

An exorcism is when all the fluids intaken are pushed out the throat.

The throat is the hallway whose walls hold my picture.

A picture is the tomb of a moment.

A moment is the sensuous this.

This is this.

This is this.

This is this.

This is this.

This this is.

Is is a state where one can once breathe.

Breath is the loosening of a valve.

A valve is what restrains the deep insides.

Inside is my eye wheatpasted to a blaring screen.

A screen is the hole which pretends it is not a hole.

A hole is what patiently grows under each home.

A home is the end.

The end is this.

This is this.

This is this.

This is this.

This is this.

This is this.

This is this… 


Photo

Feb 4, 2014
@ 10:31 am
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6 notes

pjgoring:

CLOUDCROSS 
i dunno if it’s just me, but i just made this and it is blowing me away lol

not just you

pjgoring:

CLOUDCROSS 

i dunno if it’s just me, but i just made this and it is blowing me away lol

not just you


Text

Dec 10, 2013
@ 11:38 pm
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3 notes

neu

Room-guzzling orphan what do you make of this new cage, the one where have been thin strings singing aharmonies for days?

It. It says:
-Oh the ceiling here is higher, oh the space is great but feels still unsafe.

It says chromatically, this, ascending then descending. The strings whirl around the ceiling like amphetamine snakes, like thunder coils. When they touch a gong rings backwards into itself something coming from the Out into them to be absorbed.

It. It has blocks with which to play, with which edges have been cut to curves so as it does not hurt itself. With which it has been making colorful pieces which began as self-portraits and have become something very else. Something which is an invertebrate, echinoderm art.
It is disgusted by the hollowness of canvases, the blank space between the wood and the wall, and so chose blocks as a medium. Unquestionably dense. Blocks too are low to the ground where the thin strings don’t reach to snap. Where when it stands it feels the old bruises welt up on its back. By monitor I say:

And this dream and this dream you have made for me. I am so thankful. Oh wasn’t it worthwhile?

-I don’t still know the feeling of nothing, but I am working hard for it.

Oh is there more?

-And more and more and more.

My glee screeches feedback.


Quote

Dec 9, 2013
@ 9:37 am
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17 notes

My soul walks with me, form of forms. So in the moon’s midwatches I pace the path above the rocks, in sable silvered, hearing Elsinore’s tempting flood.

— James Joyce, Ulysses (via pensivefrangipani)

(via antilogostheliterarymachine-dea)


Photo

Dec 7, 2013
@ 8:26 pm
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104 notes






Lindsey Wixson

Lindsey Wixson


Link

Nov 29, 2013
@ 12:20 am
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1 note

The Microphones - The Mansion »

w/r/t #15


Text

Nov 29, 2013
@ 12:18 am
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free association notes on an otherwise unrelated poem

Line 1: Pavement, crack, resumption
Line 2: Pavement, seven eyes in a circle, a wall with a lever which opens the floor
Line 3: Zeus, Deus Ex, Plains of Texas
Line 4: Seagulls & trash barges
Line 5: Pulling back a foreskin, phimosis, recurring idea of planting a seed in a slit in my skin
Line 6: Dream I had age 5 of mother leaving due to divorce
Line 7: Cotton Candy, mailman with impeccable teeth
Line 8: Mother, Mother’s Bruises, Incoming/outgoing money, Todd
Line 9: Dead Grandfather, Legos
Line 10: Front door of the old house potentially relating to #6
Line 11: Soap, slick, bathtub, wetness
Line 12: Drainage, “DRAINAGE”, minx, musk
Line 13: Clover, carob tree, death metal band logos
Line 14: Treasure chest, swing set, dinosaur shaped sandbox
Line 15: Sandbox again, “the wall between the treasure and the shovel”, coffin


Text

Nov 29, 2013
@ 12:08 am
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I was the worst 007 (It is OK to be Pierce Brosnnn now)

I dreamed I had shot a rabbit twice in the side with a silenced pistol

I spend the rest of the dream coddling and attempting to heal it


Text

Nov 29, 2013
@ 12:05 am
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2 notes

FORGIVE ME LORD (A DELIBERATE VOMITING)


My Vibe!
My Vibe!
Your chartreuse party fouls are dripping on
My Defenseless Vibe!

I slipped in your puddle and became the prettiest thing in the room.

Your banana trap has failed, monsignor—
dastardly prick.

Just kidding, I love everyone
just

Why would you try to lower someone like that in front of friends?

No, no-no, no
don’t clean it up
the animals will 


Text

Nov 28, 2013
@ 10:10 pm
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Itching errors 
irritations
Etched in inner ear
irremovable

etc


Text

Nov 28, 2013
@ 9:00 pm
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subconscious sexism via mixing up “The Awakening” and “The Yellow Wallpaper” repeatedly.