and to wrap up todays lesson...

Hidden

 

 I have never found a companion as companionable as solitude. We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men, than when we stay in our chambers.  A man who is thinking or working is always alone, let him be where he will...  

- Henry David Thoreau

Don't do it.

This really is sound advice.

Seems Legit.

Click the toast.

 

Where Halloween masks go to die.

I was at a flea market a few weeks ago and I spotted a Frankenstein mask very similar to the one pictured here.  When I went over to investigate, I found several others...a witch, devil, gorilla, and so on. Most of them were on the floor, in the dirt, behind a big, elaborate case.  I knocked over a few priceless antiques and made my way to them...they were all dirty,  stapled together and cracked in several places. I thought about rescuing them for posterity sake, they obviously weren't where they should be.  But I flipped over their little price-tags...only to discover that I'm pretty sure the keepers of the shop knew what they had...they just didn't care. Meanwhile, in that big elaborate case, locked up from Halloween scoundrels, was a string of vintage Christmas lights...from the 50's...still in their original box...with a little handwritten sign that read 'fragile'.

Christmas:  for assholes.



image found here.

I need to stay in more.

I learned today that glitter in still happening...

Soliloquy Of The Solipsist

Image found here.

I?
I walk alone;
The midnight street
Spins itself from under my feet;
When my eyes shut
These dreaming houses all snuff out;
Through a whim of mine
Over gables the moon's celestial onion
Hangs high.

I
Make houses shrink
And trees diminish
By going far; my look's leash
Dangles the puppet-people
Who, unaware how they dwindle,
Laugh, kiss, get drunk,
Nor guess that if I choose to blink
They die.

I
When in good humor,
Give grass its green
Blazon sky blue, and endow the sun
With gold;
Yet, in my wintriest moods, I hold
Absolute power
To boycott any color and forbid any flower
To be.

I
Know you appear
Vivid at my side,
Denying you sprang out of my head,
Claiming you feel
Love fiery enough to prove flesh real,
Though it's quite clear
All your beauty, all your wit, is a gift, my dear,
From me.

© Sylvia Plath.

Mothers...

 

A very weird combination of things happen when you Google "My mother used to puke in my mouth"...