“And, even if wars didn’t keep coming like glaciers, there would still be plain old death.”
This new video is a result of binge-watching a couple of Wes Anderson movies and my recent obsession over Jason Schwartzman. Its a sweet song with the right touch of longing I’d say. I have been listening to it repeatedly since a couple of hours so I have it perfectly memorised. Do give it a listen! Its poetic in its own way. 🙂
If not stars,
give me fairy lights
like you gave me shadows
in the name of men.
Did not wake up. The entire day! Its so frustrating, because I feel I can hear the fat building up on my skin making it thicker every single second. How do I procrastinate so well, I have no clue. But even if the inverted commas make the highlight of this post, the interesting part is, it was in a way a day well spent.
So what if I did not stay up and was productive the entire day (that’s how the justification of a procrastinator begins), when I was finally awake, I spent that time watching this movie called Frances Ha (2013). It was an interesting piece. For the most of it I was completely involved, following the protagonist and her circumstances. I think what made it even better for me was that I am somewhat going through the same phase – a woman in her 20s trying to understand what she wants to do, and trying to find a purpose (i am vacant in that respect as of now). Another thing, the entire movie is in black and white and I am a sucker for B&W. So thanks to those 1.5 hours, I don’t exactly feel shitty right now. Thanks for listening to my rants.
My tolerance of your pain,
Diminished with every smile
That you wore.
On the whole I talk to no one. I concentrate on the way light would strike filled Mason jars on a kitchen windowsill. I lie here in the sunlight, watch the hummingbird. This morning I threw the coins in the swimming pool, and they gleamed and turned in the water in such a way that I was almost moved to read them. I refrained. One thing in my defense, not that it matters: I know something Carter never knew, or Helene, or maybe you. I know what “nothing” means, and keep on playing.
– Joan Didion
Over the way lights went on; far down the block the crash was heard, and pedestrians rushed up wonderingly; upstairs a tired man awoke from the edge of sleep and a little girl whimpered in a haunted doze. And all over the moonlit sidewalk around the still, black form, hundreds of prisms and cubes and splinters of glass reflected the light in little gleams of blue, and black edged with yellow, and yellow, and crimson edged with black.
The Cut-Glass Bowl, F. Scott Fitzgerald
So pretty, isn’t it? Its one of the best last lines of a story that I have read so far. Every time I read this I fall in love with Fitzgerald all over.