#rap

It’s scary to be a woman on a blind date. For all she knows the man she is meeting up with could be a rapist, a murderer, or, God forbid, a politician. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#funny #murderer #politician #politics #rapist

Because yeah, females could be vanity hounds and most preferred their dates to have hair. Black, blond, red, it didn't matter, as long as the locks were thick and lustrous. And here was a news flash for little Miss Giggles: when he allowed his to grow, it was dark brown, nearly jet, with hints of gold and worthy of a fucking lion. Not that he was feeling defensive or anything. ↗

— Gena Showalter

#dating

A paradox: the same century invented History and PHotography. But History is a memory fabricated according to positive formulas, a pure intellectual discourse which abolishes mythic Time; and the Photograph is a certain but fugitive testimony; so that everything, today, prepares our race for this impotence: to be no longer able to conceive duration, affectively or symbolically: the age of the Photograph is also the age of revolutions, contestations, assassinations, explosions, in short, of impatiences, of everything which denies ripening. ↗

— Roland Barthes

#modernity #photography #age

The sun is high and I’m surrounded by sand. For as far as my eyes can see I’m strapped into a rocking chair With a blanket over my knees I am a stranger to myself And nobody knows I’m here When I looked into my face It wasn’t myself I’d seen But who I’ve tried to be. I’m thinking of things I’d hoped to forget. I’m choking to death in a sun that never sets. I clugged up my mind with perpetual grief And turned all my friends into enemies And now that past has returned to haunt me. I’M SCARED OF GOD AND SCARED OF HELL AND I’M CAVING IN UPON MYSELF HOW CAN ANYONE KNOW ME WHEN I DON’T EVEN KNOW MYSELF ↗

— José Ángel Mañas

#death

After I’m dead, I want to ghostwrite my autobiography. 
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#dead #death #ghostwrite #supernatural #death

Of all the ways I had imagined my death, getting beaten by my zombified mentor while trapped by a cannibalistic window handle wasn’t one of them ↗

— Anton Strout

#trapped #death

Around, around the sun we go, the moon goes 'round the earth, we do not die of death - we die of vertigo. ↗

— James O'Barr

#graphic-novels #james-o-barr #the-crow #death

There is no way I am masturbating with a gringo to something as vile and disgusting as worm-rape! ↗

— Vince Kramer

#gringo #sex #worm-rape #death

Writing is 1 percent inspiration, and 99 percent elimination. ↗

— Louise Brooks

#on-writing #paraphrased #inspirational

For Death must be somewhere in a society; if it is no longer (or less intensely) in religion, it must be elsewhere; perhaps in this image which produces Death while trying to preserve life. Contemporary with the withdrawal of rites, Photography may correspond to the intrusion, in our modern society, of an asymbolic Death, outside of religion, outside of ritual, a kind of abrupt dive into literal Death. ↗

— Roland Barthes

#death