☡┬

NewWorldHowls

I saw mohammedian angels staggering on tenement rooftops illuminated

Literature, Hannibal, films, Philosophy, Science, and anything else that catches my eye.

Currently watching: How to Survive a Plague

Currently reading: Alexander, The War that Killed Achilles; Homer, The Iliad

5 hours ago• 15547 • Reblog
5 hours ago• 4138 • Reblog
5 hours ago• 27224 • Reblog
6 hours ago• 79082 • Reblog
8 hours ago• 50051 • Reblog

It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

Jack Kerouac (via dulcetive)

(Source: aslovelyasatree)

10 hours ago• 137 • Reblog
22 hours ago• 3 • Reblog

Somewhere along the line he’d stopped measuring time by years and months and days and hours and minutes. With calendars and clocks. Stopped measuring by watching the sun and the moon and the way shadows fell across oak hardwood. By the comforting clang of a metal door and the soft hiss of a lowered zipper.

He began measuring time breath by breath. Heartbeat by heartbeat. Brush stroke by brush stroke. He began measuring it in venetian and crimson and vermilion, washed it with a second of raw umber. He began measuring it in unmoved yardsticks and faded thermometers and useless pencil gauges. By the absence of doe-eyed glances and tongue-in-cheek smiles. He began existing – it’s only time - instead of living.

The Measure of Things [x] (via holyshitsunshine)

22 hours ago• 3309 • Reblog
22 hours ago• 4493 • Reblog
22 hours ago• 6777 • Reblog
22 hours ago• 6930 • Reblog
22 hours ago• 20191 • Reblog
22 hours ago• 42613 • Reblog
23 hours ago• 15567 • Reblog
23 hours ago• 7420 • Reblog
officialunitedstates:

My sister Jenny had finally turned 22 and her birthday gift was rain. 
"Cover your eyes," I said after I showed up unexpectedly at her apartment.  "I have a surprise for you."
After a bit of convincing she went along with it, and I led her down five flights of stairs to the lobby. 
She asked if we could have just taken the elevator.
"You’re not supposed to use the elevator when it’s raining.  I read that once.  I also like how they’re called flights.  Where’s the plane?  Haha."  She didn’t laugh at my joke.  I told her she could open her eyes now and she did. 
"What? Where’s this surprise?" she asked.
"I know how much you like rain.  It’s your birthday and it is raining.  Happy birthday, sis."
She looked out into the bustling, wet street and then gave me a sour look.  I gave her a sweet look.  She walked away.  I walked a way. 
"Look, Jenny, to be honest, I would have bought you a present but my wallet is empty," I said as I reached into my back pocket and showed her my empty wallet.  I had emptied it out the night before but she didn’t need to know that.  I even took out my library card.  That’s not even currency.  I definitely could have left that in there and she still would have thought I was broke.
She looked at the floor, letting her curly blond hair become unfurled, grinned, and then looked back up at me.  “It’s okay, I like your present.  At the very least it shows that you care about me.” 
And that’s how I got away with giving my sister rain for her 22nd birthday so I could buy sixteen globes the next day and smash them all with a baseball bat in the middle of times square.