(via hosindahood)
All signposts that once stood on the ground are gone, inundated and carried away by that rush of water. And still the rain beats down on the surface of the river. Every time you see a flood like that on the news you tell yourself: That’s it. That’s my heart.
Haruki Murakami, Kafka On the Shore (via therevolutionwillbeblogged)
(via hosindahood)
(via hungrycanine)
We’re so self-important. So arrogant. Everybody’s going to save something now. Save the trees, save the bees, save the whales, save the snails. And the supreme arrogance? Save the planet! Are these people kidding? Save the planet? We don’t even know how to take care of ourselves; we haven’t learned how to care for one another. We’re gonna save the fuckin’ planet? … And, by the way, there’s nothing wrong with the planet in the first place. The planet is fine. The people are fucked! Compared with the people, the planet is doin’ great. It’s been here over four billion years … The planet isn’t goin’ anywhere, folks. We are! We’re goin’ away. Pack your shit, we’re goin’ away. And we won’t leave much of a trace. Thank God for that. Nothing left. Maybe a little Styrofoam. The planet will be here, and we’ll be gone. Another failed mutation; another closed-end biological mistake.
George Carlin (via decaying-organic-matter)
It’s blood. NYC artist, Jordan Eagles, works solely with gallons upon gallons of blood obtained from a slaughterhouse. By manipulating the blood through heating, burning, aging, mixing with copper, adding foreign materials, and then encasing it in plexiglass and UV resin, Jordan is able to capture an array of organic designs. His large pieces are uncomfortably beautiful, especially when lit, the blood seems to glow against the clean white walls of a gallery.
via streetanatomy
this work is absolutely phenomenally beautiful.
(via hungrycanine)
Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.
Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky (via thenocturnals)
(via petullia)
