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Fan humming. Linen bundled up.If peaceful still. Before the passing World.

Mark Z. Danielewski, Only Revolutions (via broken-house)

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Because I’m slowing here. Because I feer the irreparable loss of holding someone dear.

Only Revolutions, by Mark Z. Danielewski (via lizardgoats)

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How well we see beyond ourselves depends first on how well we see ourselves. And seeing well I am coming to believe has less to do with what our eyes demonstrate on behalf of light and more to do with what our words compose on behalf of life. Though even so, while language is the greatest meaning of the world, it will never be the meaning of the world.

The Familiar: Honeysuckle & Pain (Volume 3)–Mark Z. Danielewski (via aestheticquotes)

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Canyon and salt flats. Rockets and tin hats. Swollen knees, parched buckets. Only some are lucky. Hardly. And I’m all sands west when the rains left. I’m a thousand Julys.

Mark Z. Danielewski, Only Revolutions (Hailey p. 129)

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“If the work demanded by any labyrinth means penetrating or escaping it, the question of process becomes extremely relevant. For instance, one way out of any maze is to simply keep one hand on a wall and walk in one direction. Eventually the exit will be found. Unfortunately where the house is concerned, this approach would probably require an infinite amount of time and resources. It cannot be forgotten that the problem posed by exhaustion–a result of labor–is an inextricable part of any encounter with a sophisticated maze. In order to escape then, we have to remember we cannot ponder all paths but must decode only those necessary to get out. We must be quick and anything but exhaustive. Yet, as Seneca warned in his Epistulae Morales 44, going too fast also incurs certain risks:

Quod evenit in labyrintho properantibus:

ipsa illos velocities implicat.*

*This is what happens when you hurry through a maze: the faster you go, the worse you are entangled.”

–Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

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“In the end, they are only cats but cats to talk to just the same before in their own weaving and wending, they Kilkenny-disappear, just as they first appeared, out of nowhere, banishing back into the nowhere, tales from some great story we will never see but one day just might imagine.”

- House of Leaves

- Mark Z Danielewski

- Chapter VI, Footnote 82

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i feel like shit so can i show you guys my favourite minotaur statues/sculptures

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Vanishing point, Oleksandr Shatokhin

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cacoepies - [are we then unknowable?] excerpts from panels 6 & 4

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                                                            23 Janiuere, 1610

Ftaires! We haue found ftaires! ⁴⁰⁰

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House of Leaves: The Horror of Fiction

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Gloomy day.

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Rhythmical Lines, by Sarah Cowan, «The Paris Review», February 15, 2017 / La linea infinita di Wacław Szpakowski, by Riccardo Venturi, «Doppiozero», September 2, 2017

(images: Wacław Szpakowski, B9, 1926; A0000, 1926; D7, 1928; S3, 1939-1943; A1, 1930; E2, 1926; F13, 1939-1943; F3, 1925)

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Some slightly odd kitties :3

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