Equally complicated: the idea of agnosia, or unknowing, which is what one ideally finds, or undergoes, or achieves, within this Divine Darkness. Again: this agnosia is not a form of ignorance, but rather a kind of undoing. (As if one knew then forgot? But what did one know?) –Maggie Nelson, Bluets
Lately, I’ve been playing with the idea of unknowing.
Irrevocable, wavered, and unconscious.
Loss of, obviously. Lost the hinges. Frail.
An excuse to get back to the meaning.
A refusal. An elongated kiss from inner ankle to wrist.
An orgasm that changes beliefs and character.
Like a wish on a lingering laundry line and the permanence.
Ah, the permanence-fusing-together.
Like magnets and carnations.
The best kind of love mimics lust, a dab of trust, and conversation.
The best kind of love stays.
It feels like a tea stain.
Walt Disney animator: Brian Kesinger is an absolute an utter genius for this tea-stained art above.
Tyler Knott Gregson shows off as a photographer, and has quite his way with words.
Today I am overwhelmed. I have agnosia. There is little left to believe in. This is ok.
I am undone.
Money is the root of all evil you say?
Tosh-Pish! Money can buy me:
Abracadabras like so!
Sit me out in the middle of no where, and sip me some wine under a chandelier like my worries have no fears and my fears can’t hear them.
Call me a different name and if I don’t answer let it make no damn difference at all. What was I saying?
O, money… money, well money, can buy me:
A White Volkswagen Hybrid Touareg.
Wha? At least I’m saving the environment. It’s Hybrid–for shucks sake!
And money, o yesss, sweet love of the world…
Walking the streets of, … … … need I say more?
The streets of Paris are likely-like dreams. Sometimes in the middle of the day I drift off in daze-like reveries of an imaginary experience. I’m sure when I get there I’ll stump my toe or a dog will bite my arm and it’ll ruin my fantasy, but for now I can live through an unrealistic daydream, a daydream where everything I eat when I’m there won’t have any calories, and everything I experience I’ll remember beyond forever. Ahhhhh, swoonie-swoon.
My mom always tells me “Honey, if you’ve got your health, you’ve got everything in the world,” and I believe that, but at the same time, what happens when you live your life never able to fully expand or live up to your own potential? Sometimes I fear I’ll be wrinkly, crinkly, and grey (I can see them coming already!) before I reach the truly good part about this panoramic figure 8 we call life. I’m sick of the journey, where’s my destination? I’m sick of the journey. What’s with all this waiting?
“Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination.”
― Oscar Wilde
Money? Money could get me these, hilariously fall out cute- pumped up
kicks pumps that make me want to dance swirls and swirls and bite the moon in a strapless pastel peplum dress holding this lunch clutch… which by the way would be frikkin stellar. Although there is this new nonfiction book I’ve been needing by Tracy Kidder… I’m jus’ sayin:
“You should date a girl who reads.
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”
― Rosemarie Urquico
But then there’s the stomping, give me everything I want and I want everything I want right now that says… well, let’s just say I’ve been wanting this purse half a year.
So you see I have discovered that you CAN buy happiness. But that all depends on what makes you happiest.
Maybe a select few fam and friends and a diamond ring knocking me into foggy submission forevermore might help too. Yes, the dreaming is quite nice.
Ah let’s see, a published memoir and a successful following changing the lives of many would be meritoriously peachy, but we aren’t talking about aesthetic emotional heart coddling needs–we are talking wants, straight wants! I tell you.
What do you crave? Join in this materialism.
I need links!
We are crying of joy! Seriously crying! I mean, just look at us. Or maybe they just ate all our bunny’s carrots. Either way grand things are happening ’round here at Creative Confusion! We can hardly contain ourselves at such an emotional upheaval!
Our store has officially launched, and we have a full staff of writers and editors.
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