hauntedinsomnia

[hauntedinsomnia]

Κοιτούσε ο ένας τον άλλον και γελούσαμε…

πόσο ήταν όμορφο να ζει κανείς.

Όταν χαμογελούσες ξεχνούσα 

τη στέγη που έσταζε, 

ξεχνούσα το τρύπιο πάτωμα

έλεγα κιόλ��ς, να, μες απ’ τις τρύπες του 

όπου και να ’ναι θα φυτρώσουνε 

μεγάλα κόκκινα τριαντάφυλλα.

Τάσος Λειβαδίτης

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Details from La Lune’s Debut Runway Show

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πέρασα τη ζωή μου

ζυγίζοντας λέξεις

που οι άνθρωποι

δεν εννοούν

.

Δημήτριος Μουζάκης, Μικρό Ανθολόγιο Ερωτικών Ποιημάτων

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Και μου λες λοιπόν θυμήσου, σαν ταινία η ζωή σου να κυλά.

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Πως συνεχίζεται η ζωή με τόσα λόγια ανείπωτα;

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Κι ίσως να σου ‘λεγα πολλά

αν μια φορά ρωτούσες.

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Tom Lovell (1909–1997) - “Bride of the Mummy”

cover art from ‘Dime Mystery Magazine’, July 1936

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At a certain point I said to myself that, since the Middle Ages were my day-to-day fantasy, I might as well write a novel actually set in that period. As I have said in interviews, I know the present only through the television screen, whereas I have a direct knowledge of the Middle Ages. When we used to light bonfires on the grass in the country, my wife would accuse me of never looking at the sparks that flew up among the trees and glided along the electricity wires. Then when she read the chapter on the fire, she said, “So you were looking at the sparks!” And I answered, “No, but I knew how a medieval monk would have seen them.”

umberto eco, postscript of the name of the rose

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Heraldic Chivalry by Alphonse Mucha

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If I had nine lives

I’d spend the first one drowning

feel the water seep into my lungs

stealing my oxygen and stripping my breath

maybe after I become unconscious,

I’d find peace and would no longer fear the ocean.

I could spend the rest if my eight lives living by the water,

living with no fears.

For my next two I’d spend each one with my parents,

living in their shadows,

learn their deepest secrets and listen to their regrets,

just so I don’t fuck up lives four through nine.

I’ll hold their hands gently and watch them take their last breath.

In my fourth life

I’ll run away, I’ll run away from myself,

the person I cannot change, because I am still too naive to understand that

I am all the things that are wrong with me.

I’ll chase butterflies and try to find myself,

I’ll look at all the wrong places, wrong cities, wrong people

and before I know what I’ve ran through three of my nine lives.

My seventh life

I’ll listen to my parents advice,

I’ll work a 9 to 5, make a stable income,

settle down with a man I’m not sure I’m in love with

but he’s a good father to my children.

We will have a white picket fence, red door and a big fluffy dog,

one that barks at the mailman.

For my eight life,

I’ll live it alone, I’ll write books,

live in a little apartment in New York City.

Spend my days writing in a cafe around the block from where I live,

and drink wine before bed.

I’ll do yoga and eat clean and have an occasional cigarette off my balcony.

I’ll raise a cat by myself and he’ll watch me take my last breath before my last life.

In my final life

I’ll look for you

I’ll wait at bus stops

move back to our hometown,

try and find you at a shitty dive bar and write letters I’ll never send,

I’ll realise that after living eight lives

something was missing,

going about life without the person I loved made it all seem meaningless,

but I don’t have nine lives,

I just have this one,

So I guess I’ll spend it sitting by the ocean and waiting for you.

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Alexander McQueen Fall/Wint 2012

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Kim Addonizio, from What Is This Thing Called Love: Poems; "''Round Midnight,"

[hauntedinsomnia]

Γιατί ξεκαθάρισαν έτσι,

πώς το γκρίζο

αναλύθηκε σε μαύρο και άσπρο,

γιατί ξεπρόβαλαν ξεκάθαρα

τα βουνά πίσω από την ομίχλη,

οι τοίχοι, τα τείχη, οι φράχτες,

τα κάγκελα, τα σίδερα, οι λέξεις

πώς υψώθηκαν τόσο ωμά, τόσο ψηλά,

γιατί σταματήσαμε να μιλάμε με μουσική,

πώς τα φιλιά απέκτησαν το χρώμα σβησμένου ήλιου,

γιατί το μόνο που μας ενώνει είναι οι αριθμοί;

Ίσως επειδή μέτρησα τους φίλους

και στο δωμάτιο υπήρχε η ραγισμένη γυάλα

με το διψασμένο χρυσόψαρο.

Ίσως επειδή μεγαλώσαμε,

γεράσαμε, στα είκοσι δυο μας χρόνια

[hauntedinsomnia]

The Devil Wears Prada (2006) dir. David Frankel

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HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003) dir. Donald Petrie