Life is impossible at high temperatures. That’s why I have reached the conclusion that anguished people, whose inner dynamism is so intense that it reaches paroxysm, and who cannot accept normal temperatures, are doomed to fall. Only medocrities live at life’s normal temperatures; the others are consumed at temperatures at which life cannot endure, at which they can barely breathe, already one foot beyond life.

If I could, I would drive the entire world to agony to achieve radical purification of life; I would set a fire burning insidiously at the roots of life, not to destroy them but to give them a new and different sap, a new heat. The fire I would set to the world would not bring ruin but cosmic transformation. In this way life would adjust to higher temperatures and would cease to be an environment propitious to mediocrity. And maybe in this dream, death too would cease to be immanent in life.

Emil Cioran, “The World and I” from On the Heights of Despair (via e-m-cioran

holy shit…

supahiiro:

artelini:

A comic about my parents. The entirety of their relationship is mutual hatred of the human race.

ahhh you’re mom is so great thooo

lol

buttonpoetry:

Ken Arkind - “God Box” (CUPSI 2014)

"Could you make this wheelchair feel like my father’s shoulders? Invent a makeup that prevents the bruises, instead of just covering them up?"

A haunting, powerful performance from the Penmanship Books Reading at CUPSI 2014. Buy Ken’s book here.