October 18, 2014
Mexican Loneliness ¦ Jack Kerouac

And I am an unhappy stranger
grooking in the streets of Mexico-
My friends have died on me, my
lovers disappeared, my whores banned,
my bed rocked and heaved by
earthquake - and no holy weed
to get high by candlelight
and dream - only fumes of buses,
dust storms, and maids peeking at me
thru a hole in the door
secretly drilled to watch
masturbators fuck pillows -
I am the Gargoyle
of Our Lady
dreaming in space
gray mist dreams —
My face is pointed towards Napoleon
——— I have no form ———
My address book is full of RIP’s
I have no value in the void,
at home without honor, -
My only friend is an old fag
without a typewriter
Who, if he’s my friend,
I’ll be buggered.
I have some mayonnaise left,
a whole unwanted bottle of oil,
peasants washing my sky light,
a nut clearing his throat
in the bathroom next to mine
a hundred times a day
sharing my common ceiling -
If I get drunk I get thirsty
- if I walk my foot breaks down
- if I smile my mask’s a farce
- if I cry I’m just a child -
- if I remember I’m a liar
- if I write the writing’s done -
- if I die the dying’s over -
- if I live the dying’s just begun -
- if I wait the waiting’s longer
- if I go the going’s gone 
if I sleep the bliss is heavy 
the bliss is heavy on my lids
- if I go to cheap movies
the bedbugs get me -
Expensive movies I can’t afford
- if I do nothing 
nothing does

October 18, 2014
"There is nothing better than a change of air in this malady [melancholia] than to wander up and down, as those Tartari Zalmohenses that live in hordes, and take the opportunity of times, places, seasons."

— The Anatomy of Melancholy, Robert Burton

October 18, 2014
"The act of journeying contributes towards a sense of physical and mental well-being, while the monotony of prolonged settlement or regular work weaves patterns in the brain that engender fatigue and a sense of personal inadequency. Much of what the ethologists have designated ‘aggression’ is simply an angered response to the frustrations of confinement."

— Bruce Chatwin, Nomad Invasions [from What Am I Doing Here]

August 1, 2014
"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."

— A.A Milne, Winnie the Pooh

February 28, 2014
Birdfoot’s Grandpa

by Joseph Bruchac

The old man
must have stopped our car
two dozen times to climb out
and gather into his hands
the small toads blinded
by our lights and leaping,
live drops of rain.

The rain was falling,
a mist about his white hair
and I kept saying
You can’t save them all
accept it, get back in
we’ve got places to go.

But, leathery hands full
of wet brown life
knee deep in summer
roadside grass,
he just smiled and said:
"They have places to go too.”

via apoemaday

February 5, 2014


"Poor workers! First they’re cuckolded, and, as if that weren’t enough, then they’re beaten! Work’s a curse, Saturno. I say to hell with the work you have to do to earn a living! That kind of work does us no honour; all it does is fill up the bellies of the pigs who exploit us. But the work you do because you like to do it, because you’ve heard the call, you’ve got a vocation - that’s ennobling! We should all be able to work like that. Look at me, Saturno - I don’t work. And I don’t care if they hang me, I won’t work! Yet I’m alive! I may live badly, but at least I don’t have to work to do it!" 
- Luis Buñuel

Painting of Buñuel by Salvador Dali

January 30, 2014
Mix tape returns : @8tracks: for clear winter nights from Mexico, by Stolencompass.

Mix tape returns : @8tracks: for clear winter nights from Mexico, by Stolencompass.

January 25, 2014
"Sometimes the blues is just just a passing bird,"

— The Tallest Man on Earth

January 25, 2014
"People say, ‘There are other fish in the sea.’
I say, ‘Fuck you. She was my sea.’"

— James Faulkner

January 12, 2014
Murmansk, Russia, 1941.
via whattheendoftheworldlookedlike

Murmansk, Russia, 1941.

via whattheendoftheworldlookedlike