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
Jack Kerouac (via dulcetive)
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.