#y

you simply couldn't guard yourself against dreams. they attacked late at night when a person was at the most vulnerable. ↗

— Kate O'Riordan

#dreaming #guard #vulnerability #dreams

This is the us you wanted us to be, Gwen. ↗

— Kristen Ashley

#romance #us #dreams

And that's the bottom layer in old boxes: melancholy, an indefinable sense of loss. You dig around and it comes swirling up to the top ↗

— John Ajvide Lindqvist

#dreams

if you’re going to use the word ‘dream’ in a poem, you had better be langston hughes. ↗

— Jewelle Gomez

#poetry #dreams

I dreamt that I took William Burrough’s penis and tied it up with piano wire. I hung him like a Chagall painting…In the next part J.G. Ballard swam through streets of female urine. The girls read his book Crash and then mowed him down with their Volkswagen, crushing his chest slowly against a brick wall. As he screamed in agony larger than representation can accommodate, they referred to his text and had orgasms. Later, they jumped up and down yelling, ‘You’re not a hero. You’re not a hero. You’re not. You’re not. You’re not.’ “ “How do you analyze that part of the dream, Anna?” …”I guess I’m nervous about my birthday. ↗

— Sarah Schulman

#dreams #j-g-ballard #psychoanalysis #sexism #william-burroughs

How would I think, breathe, digest, grow, sleep, dream, and exist, if not by the will of God? Can’t you see that God is making you be? ↗

— Steven Colborne

#dreams

A snake bites your ankle. Recoiling, you scream. Fearing poison, your mind slips into a dream... ...where a man bites your ankle. Expecting no guile, "Again," softly falls from your lips with a smile. Yet, the man and the snake are the same. Your perception is only to blame. ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#judgement #perception #poetry #richelle #richelle-goodrich

Healthy Choices Hold still Keep quiet. Get a degree to learn how to talk saying nothing. Catch a good man by being demure. the one your mother chooses. Let him climb you whenever his urge, amidst headaches and menstrual aches and screaming infants. And when he bids quick, turn over. Hold still. Make your tongue a slab of cement a white stone etched with your name. Kill your stories with knives and knitting needles and Clorox bleach. Hide in your mysteriousness by saying nothing. Starch your thoughts with ironed shirts. Tie your anger with a knot in your throat and when he comes without concern swallow it. Hold still. Keep desire hopeless as ice and sleepless nights and painful as pinched eyelid. Keep your fingers from the razor, keep your longing to sever his condescension safely in your douchbag. Turn the blade against yourself. Don't twitch as your slashed wrists stain your bathroom tiles. Disinfect with Pine Sol. Hold still. Keep quiet. Keep tight your lips, keep dead your dreams, keep cold your heart. Keep quiet. And he will shout praises to your perfection. ↗

— Janice Mirikitani

#women #anger

...and at the bottom, all tragedies are stupid. Give me a choice and I'll take A Midsummer Night's Dream over Hamlet every time. Any fool with steady hands and a working set of lungs can build up a house of cards and then blow it down, but it takes a genius to make people laugh. ↗

— Stephen King

#dreams

Is it possible, in the final analysis, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another? We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close can we come to that person's essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone? ↗

— Haruki Murakami

#friendship #important #love #people #philosophy