the long mystery
Photos, poems, and other observances.
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Photo reblogged from I Love Charts
Self awareness assessment in four squares: The Johari Window
via Tom
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Photo reblogged from I Love Charts
david byrne’s mobius strip of relational emotion.
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“When the trucks come in [to the prison yard], you know, they bring in like the trash truck and all that? The smell of the exhaust, most people don’t want to smell that. I try to get a nose full of it, because it brings back memories of being out on the streets.” — Paul Mortimer, maximum security prison inmate, describing one of the pleasures of his life behind bars
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“I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind’s door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were.” — Joan Didion on keeping “notebooks” — Slouthing Toward Bethlehem
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“You miss your wife, miss her more than at any time since you have been married, for she is the only person who knows you well enough to ask the right questions, who has the assurance and understanding to prod you into into revealing things about yourself that often elude your own understanding, and how much better it would be if you were lying in bed with her now instead of sitting alone in a darkened room at three in the morning with a bottle of whiskey.”
— from Winter Journal, a book by Paul Auster which has made me begin a pretty serious crush on its author, particularly for how adoringly he speaks of his wife
