Shabnam Nadiya's Blog, page 2
May 27, 2016
"That doesn’t bother us. For everything that happens at our home close to Jedenew is a story, we..."
“That doesn’t bother us. For everything that happens at our home close to Jedenew is a story, we determine and decide, when we consult about how we’re going to deal from now on with the fact that Father’s story is not his at all, that he only pilfers his story from here and there and devises it as his, that we know nothing about his true story, and so also don’t know how he actually in reality comes to be on the farms close to Jedenew, but we decide that this story that he pilfers from here and there and devises as his is now, for our, his story, just as everything around us is only a story that can just as well be an invention as Father’s. That we preserve and keep for ourselves, or forget, or someday pass on, or can only remember for ourselves, once, twice, more often, and then can forget when we want, or must forget when nothing else is possible. But always remember and must remember again one last time when, as we decide, we have no other choice.”
- Close to Jedenew, Kevin Venneman (trans. Ross Benjamin)
- Close to Jedenew, Kevin Venneman (trans. Ross Benjamin)
May 18, 2016
itscolossal:
WATCH: A Rotating 42-Layer Sculpture of Franz...
WATCH: A Rotating 42-Layer Sculpture of Franz Kafka’s Head by David Cerny [video]
“I never wish to be easily defined. I’d rather float over other people’s minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.”
― Franz Kafka
sarahthephoenix:
zebcuson:
scribblerextraordinaire:
just-shower-thoughts:
Based on genital...
Based on genital structure men should really be the ones wearing skirts and women should be wearing pants.
The Scots were right all along
The Scots did it to hide more knives on their bodies.
the Scots were right all along
are you all like sporran each other on?
anny-wang:
Oups! :)) made with Tim
My heart.My brain.My guts.
A video posted by Anny Wang (@annyversary) on Feb 22, 2016 at 11:45am PST
Oups! :)) made with Tim
My heart.
My brain.
My guts.
"I had always buried things, even when I was small; I remember that once I quartered the long field..."
“I had always buried things, even when I was small; I remember that once I quartered the long field and buried something in each quarter to make the grass grow higher as I grew taller, so I would always be able to hide there. I once buried six blue marbles in the creek bed to make the river beyond run dry. ‘Here is a treasure for you to bury,’ Constance used to say to me when I was small, giving me a penny, or a bright ribbon; I had buried all my baby teeth as they came out one by one and perhaps someday they would grow as dragons. All our land was enriched with my treasures buried in it, thickly inhabited just below the surface with my marbles and my teeth and my colored stones, all perhaps turned to jewels by now, held together under the ground in a powerful taut web which never loosened, but held fast to guard us.”
- We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson
- We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson
May 15, 2016
My brain.My heart.My guts.
My brain.
My heart.
My guts.
May 14, 2016
"They were rewarded for clearing neighborhoods, these boys in uniforms who were ordered to wander..."
“They were rewarded for clearing neighborhoods, these boys in uniforms who were ordered to wander like bands of marauders, and when they were older, if they survived, they had to face the monsters they once were. Mariam imagined the dour court reporter transcribing hours of testimony, and witnesses answering endless questions about one incident in front of a panel of people whose stake in the truth was unknown. Sometimes she thought these efforts at documentation could elevate human consciousness and put an end to all war. Then she remembered how big the world was, how pregnant it was with war at every moment.”
- The Pathless Sky, Chaitali Sen
- The Pathless Sky, Chaitali Sen
March 25, 2016
"Can only trust my breasts now. I like my breasts, nothing can be killed by them. Hand, foot, tongue,..."
“Can only trust my breasts now. I like my breasts, nothing can be killed by them. Hand, foot, tongue, gaze, all weapons from which nothing is safe. But not my breasts. With my round breasts, I’m okay. Still okay. So why do they keep on shrinking? Not even round anymore. Why? Why am I changing like this? Why are my edges all sharpening–what am I going to gouge?”
- Han Kang, The Vegetarian
- Han Kang, The Vegetarian
March 8, 2016
"you should see the downy cheeks
of peaches being stroked
you should see man after man
turning apples..."
“you should see the downy cheeks
of peaches being stroked
you should see man after man
turning apples in their hands
polishing them to an Eden sheen
before going home to beat their wives.”
- Yusra Amjad, ‘Tarazoo’, published in The Missing Slate (via themissingslate)
of peaches being stroked
you should see man after man
turning apples in their hands
polishing them to an Eden sheen
before going home to beat their wives.”
- Yusra Amjad, ‘Tarazoo’, published in The Missing Slate (via themissingslate)
