
Put some honey and sea water by your bed.
acknowledge that your being needs sweetness and cleansing.
that it is sore.
that you are soft.
— Nayyirah Waheed, “orishas” in “Nejma”
Notes: Prose – thank you Beth @ Alive @ All Channels. Photo Source.
I can't sleep…

Put some honey and sea water by your bed.
acknowledge that your being needs sweetness and cleansing.
that it is sore.
that you are soft.
— Nayyirah Waheed, “orishas” in “Nejma”
Notes: Prose – thank you Beth @ Alive @ All Channels. Photo Source.
“In fact, from the first clasped stick and improvised carrier, tools have extended the body’s strength, skill, and reach to a remarkable degree. We live in a world where our hands and feet can direct a ton of metal to go faster than the fastest land animal, where we can speak across thousands of miles, blow holes in things with no muscular exertion but the squeeze of a forefinger. It is the unaugmented body that is rare now, and that body has begun to atrophy as both a muscular and a sensory organism. In the century and a half since the railroad seemed to go too fast to be interesting, perceptions and expectations have sped up, so that many now identify with the speed of the machine and look with frustration or alienation at the speed and ability of the body. The world is no longer on the scale of our bodies, but on that of our machines, and many need—or think they need—the machines to navigate that space quickly enough. Of course, like most “time-saving” technologies, mechanized transit more often produces changed expectations than free time; and modern Americans have significantly less time than they did three decades ago. To put it another way, just as the increased speed of factory production did not decrease working hours, so the increased speed of transportation binds people to more diffuse locales rather than liberating them from travel time (many Californians, for example, now spend three or four hours driving to and from work each day). The decline of walking is about the lack of space in which to walk, but it is also about the lack of time—the disappearance of that musing, unstructured space in which so much thinking, courting, daydreaming, and seeing has transpired. Machines have sped up, and lives have kept pace with them.”
— Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking

Go wreck yourself once more against the day
and wash up like a bottle on the shore,
lucidity and salt in all you say.
— David Mason, from “Another Thing,” Sea Salt, Poems of a Decade: 2004-2014
Notes: Poem via The Vale of Soulmaking. Photo: (via Your Eyes Blaze Out)
“Tomorrow’s a brand new day. Never been touched.”
~ Guzmin (Doorman), Modern Love S:1 – E1, When the Doorman is Your Main Man.
Photo: Mennyfox55. Related Posts: It’s been a long day
I remember, I remember … I closed my eyes. Eyelids are really just flesh curtains. Your eyes are always “on,” always looking; when you close them, you’re watching the thin, veined skin of your inner eyelid rather than staring out at the world. It’s not a comforting thought. In fact, if I thought about it for long enough, I’d probably want to pluck out my own eyes, to stop looking, to stop seeing all the time. The things I’ve seen cannot be unseen. The things I’ve done cannot be undone.
~ Gail Honeyman, Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine.
Photo: Mulholland Dr. 2001 (Naomi Watts) via i wanna see your eyes. Related Posts: It’s been a long day