questions only a masochist would ask
Now the sun finds our innermost hearts,
fills us with oblivion
intense as the forest, winter and sea.
from “Animalistic Hymn” by Edith Södergran
“
In the time it took you to read the last paragraph some 48-year old was laid off by The Village Voice, and they’re smarter than you and have lived ten times what you’ve lived and can write so much better than you I actually almost feel bad for you, and now they’re on the same job market trying to scramble for the same shitty 10-cents-a-word gig recapping a show about couponing for the AV Club in the hopes that they can bang out some soul-destroying tedious bullshit so that a pack of talentless losers in the comments can pick their words apart from the safety of their beige plastic cubicles as they try to distract themselves with pop culture for long enough to keep their all-devouring self-hatred at bay. You might get that gig over them but if so it’s only because you’re young and cheap and stupid…
do try, do try, do try
I am never not in the mood to listen to this song.
(Source: Spotify)
every night seems to be ten times longer after all, even though i’m not so sure
Anne Carson, The Art of Poetry No. 88
INTERVIEWER
Is there’s anything else you’d like to add?
CARSON
I’d like to add a piece of wisdom from Gertrude Stein: “act so there is no use in a center.” That’s what I try to teach my students.
