moments before the wind.

re-re-re-re reading this book called House of Leaves.  it's one of the most artistically beautiful books i've ever read.  it's amazing to me that this book can feel creepy, downright scary, cathartic, loving, tragic, and hopeful, all at the same time.  if any of you have not read it, i'd suggest you do so immediately, you will not be disappointed.  anyway, here are some of my favorite quotes from the book.  probably a throwaway post, i know, but i think you can find some kind of beauty in these words.

“It may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it's mine.” 

“What can I say, I'm a sucker for abandoned stuff, misplaced stuff, forgotten stuff, any old stuff which despite the light of progress and all that, still vanishes every day like shadows at noon, goings unheralded, passings unmourned, well, you get the drift.

As a counselor once told me -a counselor for Disaffected Yought, I might add: "You like that crap because it reminds you of you." Couldn't of said it better or put it more bluntly. Don't even disagree with it either.”

“Little solace comes
to those who grieve
when thoughts keep drifting
as walls keep shifting
and this great blue world of ours
seems a house of leaves

moments before the wind.” 

“I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I'm not. No one ever really gets used to nightmares.” 

“For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You'll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you'll realize it's always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won't understand why or how.”

“Here then at long last is my darkness. No cry of light, no glimmer, not even the faintest shard of hope to break free across the hold.” 

“I took my morning walk, I took my evening walk, I ate something, I thought about something, I wrote, I napped and dreamt something too, and with all that something, I still have nothing because so much of sum’thing has always been and always will be you.  I love you.”

“Love of love written by the broken hearted, love of life written by the dead.”

thank you, i love you all.

michael.