"I don’t give a shit what the world thinks. I was born a bitch, I was born a painter, I was born fucked. But I was happy in my way. You did not understand what I am. I am love. I am pleasure, I am essence, I am an idiot, I am an alcoholic, I am tenacious. I am; simply I am…You are a shit."
— Frida Kahlo, from an unsent letter to Diego Rivera (via violentwavesofemotion)
"You have got to sometimes become the medicine you want to take. You have got to, absolutely got to put your face into the gash and sniff, and lick. You have got to learn to get sick. You have got to reestablish the integrity of your emotions so that their violence can become a health and so that you can keep on becoming. There is no sacrifice. You have got to want to live. You have got to force yourself to want to."
— Ariana Reines, “Advertisement” (via newsfrompoems)
(Source: yum-and-yuk.blogspot.com, via theilovedickproject-deactivated)
"girls who’d been hospitalized for mental illness, assistant professors who would not be receiving their tenure, lap dancers, cutters, and whores"
— Chris Kraus | Summer of Hate (via elanormcinerney)
"I feel so teenage. When you’re living so intensely in your head you actually believe when something happens you’ve imagined, that you caused it… When you’re living so intensely in your head there isn’t any difference between what you imagine and what actually takes place. Therefore, you’re both omnipotent and powerless."
— chris kraus, i love dick (via amdfn)
Sext: I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.
"Eros is an issue of boundaries. He exists because certain boundaries do. In the interval between reach and grasp, between glance and counterglance, between ‘I love you’ and ‘I love you too’, the absent presence of desire comes alive. But the boundaries of time and glance and I love you are only aftershocks of the main, inevitable boundary that creates Eros: the boundary of flesh and self between you and me. And it is only, suddenly, at the moment when I would dissolve that boundary, I realize I never can."
— Anne Carson (1998). Eros the Bittersweet. Champaign: Dalkey Archive Press; p. 30. (via acadaimon)
"the lover will never fill the void so let the void be"
— Daiq, killing it (via aloofshahbanou)