Esquire Theme by Matthew Buchanan
Social icons by Tim van Damme

30

Dec

06

Jul

(Source: )

amazing.

amazing.

28

Jun

Elm by Sylvia Plath

I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root; 

It is what you fear. 

I do not fear it: I have been there. 

Is it the sea you hear in me, 

Its dissatisfactions? 

Or the voice of nothing, that was you madness? 

Love is a shadow. 

How you lie and cry after it. 

Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse. 

All night I shall gallup thus, impetuously, 

Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf, 

Echoing, echoing. 

Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons? 

This is rain now, the big hush. 

And this is the fruit of it: tin white, like arsenic. 

I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets. 

Scorched to the root 

My red filaments burn and stand,a hand of wires. 

Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs. 

A wind of such violence 

Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek. 

The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me 

Cruelly, being barren. 

Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her. 

I let her go. I let her go 

Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery. 

How your bad dreams possess and endow me. 

I am inhabited by a cry. 

Nightly it flaps out 

Looking, with its hooks, for something to love. 

I am terrified by this dark thing 

That sleeps in me; 

All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. 

Clouds pass and disperse. 

Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? 

Is it for such I agitate my heart? 

I am incapable of more knowledge. 

What is this, this face 

So murderous in its strangle of branches? - 

Its snaky acids hiss. 

It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults 

That kill, that kill, that kill.

25

Jun

#billyjoel (Taken with Instagram)

#billyjoel (Taken with Instagram)

16

Jun

20 plays

I like this version a tad better then the recorded one…. 

04

Jun

29

May

30

Apr

26

Apr

I often dress like an old man. I’m okay with this.

I often dress like an old man. I’m okay with this.

25

Apr

23

Apr

And there then becomes that moment, where everything is happening so fast, yet nothing is happening at all. Time stands still, yet the guilt and desire never seems to subside.