glisteneyes

[glisteneyes]

“I like snow and roses, calm and storm; I like to love, I like to hate. Every contradiction, every absurdity, every folly–I harbor them all.”

— Gustave Flaubert, from a notebook entry written c. January 1840 

[glisteneyes]

His name is overthinking

Late at night when I lay in bed

A partner sometimes joins me, 

Not the one you would imagine, 

he is rather clingy

My partner is sadistic, he takes pleasure in torturing me 

and I can’t help but let him fool me, torment me and nearly kill me 

He even succeds to make my thoughts dance devilishly above me, 

and they all twist, writhe, jump and sometimes even crush me 

While I lay there, silent and gloomy 

helplessly taking it in, letting it destroy me 

Breathless and weary, I find myself sending a query

why in hell does it have to be me ?

Until I find a cure to the pain that necroses me,

I roll to the other side of the bed, tugging at my plaid

muttering to myself, I need a break from all this thinking 

 Oh my brain, will you please stop overthinking

M.Z

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“Marianne had the sense that her real life was happening somewhere very far away, happening without her, and she didn’t know if she would ever find out where it was or become part of it.”

— Sally Rooney, Normal People

[glisteneyes]

I feel like I'm in the wrong world. Cause I don't belong in a world where we don't end up together. I don't. There are parallel universes out there where this didn't happen. Where I was with you, and you were with me. And whatever universe that is that's the one where my heart lives in.

Comet

Comet (2014) directed by Sam Esmail

[glisteneyes]

Du bonheur à l'état pur, brut, natif, volcanique, quel pied ! C'était mieux que tout, mieux que la drogue, mieux que l'héro, mieux que la dope, coke, crack, fitj, joint, shit, shoot, snif, pét’, ganja, marie-jeanne, cannabis, beuh, peyotl, buvard, acide, LSD, ecstasy. Mieux que le sexe, mieux que la fellation, soixante-neuf, partouze, masturbation, tantrisme, kamasutra, brouette thaïlandaise. Mieux que le Nutella au beurre de cacahuète et le milk-shake banane. Mieux que toutes les trilogies de George Lucas, l'intégrale des Muppets Show, la fin de 2001. Mieux que le déhanché d'Emma Peel, Marilyn, la schtroumpfette, Lara Croft, Naomi Campbell et le grain de beauté de Cindy Crawford. Mieux que la face B d'Abbey Road, les CD d'Hendrix, que le petit pas de Neil Armstrong sur la lune. Le Space Mountain, la ronde du Père Noël, la fortune de Bill Gates, les transes du Dalaï Lama, les NDE, la résurrection de Lazare, toutes les piquouzes de testostérone de Schwarzy, le collagène dans les lèvres de Pamela Anderson. Mieux que Woodstock et les raves party les plus orgasmiques. Mieux que la défonce de Sade, Rimbaud, Morrison et Castaneda. Mieux que la liberté. Mieux que la vie…

-Julien, jeux d’enfant

[glisteneyes]

Et là, ça a été le pire. Plus rien. Plus rien pendant 10 ans. Plus rien 3 652 jours et 3 653 nuits. Fini le jeu. Les jeux. Le piment de mon existence. J'ai erré dans ma vie comme on erre dans une tragédie de Racine. Hermione, version mec. Où suis-je ? Qu'ai-je fait ? Que dois-je faire encore ? Quel transport me saisi ? Quel chagrin me dévore ? Ah, ne puis-je savoir si j'aime ou si je hais ? Sophie m'a assassiné. Trucidé. Egorgée. Baisé. Enculé. Et tant d'autres rimes tarées. Et puis j'ai fini par y penser à l'imparfait. Me résoudre au bonheur fade de ma naissance. L'amour, la famille, le boulot, l'antenne parabolique. Du Racine je vous dis.

-Julien, jeux d’enfant

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-Comet (2015)

[glisteneyes]

“Mass is not proportional to volume. A girl as small as a violet. A girl who moves like a flower petal is pulling me toward her with more force than her mass. Just then, like Newton’s apple, I rolled toward her without stopping until I fell for her, with a thump. With a thump. My heart keeps bouncing between the sky and the ground. It was my first love.”

– Kim In-yook, “The Physics of Love”

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“I like you”

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One day

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