This is the book that I write

THINKING, FEELING, LOST IN MEMORY, DREAMINGLY SELF-AWARE, THE SUBMICROSCOPIC MOMENTS

kateoplis:

"I’m 87 years old…I only eat so I can smoke and stay alive.. The only fear I have is how long consciousness is gonna hang on after my body goes. I just hope there’s nothing. Like there was before I was born. I’m not really into religion, they’re all macrocosms of the ego. When man began to think he was a separate person with a separate soul, it created a violent situation.
The void, the concept of nothingness, is terrifying to most people on the planet. And I get anxiety attacks myself. I know the fear of that void. You have to learn to die before you die. You give up, surrender to the void, to nothingness.
Anybody else you’ve interviewed bring these things up? Hang on, I gotta take this call….. Hey, brother. That’s great, man. Yeah, I’m being interviewed… We’re talking about nothing. I’ve got him well-steeped in nothing right now. He’s stopped asking questions.”
- Harry Dean Stanton

kateoplis:

"I’m 87 years old…I only eat so I can smoke and stay alive.. The only fear I have is how long consciousness is gonna hang on after my body goes. I just hope there’s nothing. Like there was before I was born. I’m not really into religion, they’re all macrocosms of the ego. When man began to think he was a separate person with a separate soul, it created a violent situation.

The void, the concept of nothingness, is terrifying to most people on the planet. And I get anxiety attacks myself. I know the fear of that void. You have to learn to die before you die. You give up, surrender to the void, to nothingness.

Anybody else you’ve interviewed bring these things up? Hang on, I gotta take this call….. Hey, brother. That’s great, man. Yeah, I’m being interviewed… We’re talking about nothing. I’ve got him well-steeped in nothing right now. He’s stopped asking questions.”

- Harry Dean Stanton

(Source: eat-the-schoolgirl, via joelle-van-dyne)

“Something is always happening, even on the quietest days and deep into the night, if you stand awhile and look.”

—   don delillo (via wordsireadandloved)

“Everything is perfect on the street again, the world is permeated with roses of happiness all the time, but none of us know it. The happiness consists in realizing that it is all a great strange dream.”

—   Jack Kerouac, Lonesome Traveler (via introspectivepoet)

(Source: goodreads.com, via weisstonedimmaculate)

Twisted my ankle on Sunday. It’s starting to feel better. Hoping to be back climbing and skating by next week. 

“You’ll never know why you exist, but you’ll always allow yourselves to be easily persuaded to take life seriously.”

—    Tristan Tzara  (via magicktrance)

(Source: fuckyeahexistentialism, via nicotinehymnal)

“So many people glorify and romanticize “busy”. I do not. I value purpose. I believe in resting in reason and moving in passion. If you’re always busy/moving, you will miss important details. I like the mountain. Still, but when it moves, lands shift and earth quakes.”

—   Joseph Cook  (via loieloie)

(Source: lnkdroptheory, via leavingtheplanet)

othmeralia:

On this day in 1869 Dmitrii Mendeleev sketched his first draft of the periodic table.  While Mendeleev’s version remains the most common, alternative arrangements include circular, cylindrical, pyramidal, spiral, and triangular layouts.  Indeed, Edward Mazurs chronicled over 140 types in his seminal work, Graphic Representations of the Periodic System over 100 Years! Which one gets your vote?

(via adventuresinchemistry)

woodendreams:

(by Roger Wyrick)

Climbing here this weekend.

woodendreams:

(by Roger Wyrick)

Climbing here this weekend.

wnderlst:

Yosemite National Park | Murali Achanta

wnderlst:

Yosemite National Park | Murali Achanta

(via pumafacesbearembraces)

Aww yeah

“A poem should be a ringing phone inside a solid, crystal cube.”

—   Christian Bok (via kdecember)

(via bobschofield)

transpondster:

“Sometimes, down in the subway, a train Maxine’s riding on will slowly be overtaken by a local or an express on the other track, and in the darkness of the tunnel, as the windows of the other train move slowly past, the lighted panels appear one by one, like a series of fortune-telling cards being dealt and slid in front of her. The Scholar, The Unhoused, The Warrior Thief, The Haunted Woman … After a while Maxine has come to understand that the faces framed in these panels are precisely those out of all the city millions she must in the hour be paying most attention to, in particular those whose eyes actually meet her own — they are the day’s messengers from whatever the Beyond has for the Third World, where the days are assembled one by one under non-union conditions. Each messenger carrying the props required for their character, shopping bags, books, musical instruments, arrived here out of darkness, bound again into darkness, with only a minute to deliver the intelligence Maxine needs. At some point naturally she begins to wonder if she might not be performing the same role for some face looking back out another window at her.”

— Thomas Pynchon, Bleeding Edge

transpondster:

Sometimes, down in the subway, a train Maxine’s riding on will slowly be overtaken by a local or an express on the other track, and in the darkness of the tunnel, as the windows of the other train move slowly past, the lighted panels appear one by one, like a series of fortune-telling cards being dealt and slid in front of her. The Scholar, The Unhoused, The Warrior Thief, The Haunted Woman … After a while Maxine has come to understand that the faces framed in these panels are precisely those out of all the city millions she must in the hour be paying most attention to, in particular those whose eyes actually meet her own — they are the day’s messengers from whatever the Beyond has for the Third World, where the days are assembled one by one under non-union conditions. Each messenger carrying the props required for their character, shopping bags, books, musical instruments, arrived here out of darkness, bound again into darkness, with only a minute to deliver the intelligence Maxine needs. At some point naturally she begins to wonder if she might not be performing the same role for some face looking back out another window at her.
— Thomas Pynchon, Bleeding Edge

(via doctorsax)

e-l-m-tree:

Jack

e-l-m-tree:

Jack

(Source: caitlacoop, via pennygolightly)

“Men who don’t know themselves have a power over others, those who try miserably to understand.”

—   Don DeLillo, Love-Lies-Bleeding

“As the practice of writing on paper (everything from telegrams to letters to books to Post-It notes) is increasingly devoured by technology, words on paper are evolving from widespread tools of communication into the rarefied stuff of art. As things recede, they also expand. As a result, words are becoming as legitimate as the more traditional subject matter of painting, drawing, video and sculpture.”