There are moments when I desire nothing more than the consolation of being forgotten.
(Image via savingoldlitter)
5:01 pm • 23 May 2013 • 196 notes
“There are a million ways to bleed. But you are by far my favorite.”
— Iain Thomas, The Scars You Love (via listlessdead)
(Source: kitty-en-classe, via listlessdead)
11:00 am • 23 May 2013 • 19,332 notes
BONELUST PERSONAL COLLECTION: Comparison of Raccoon & Opossum Skulls. (Top) Opossum Skulls. (Bottom) Raccoon Skulls. Note: larger opossum skull is in poor condition & incomplete. Both species can have some variation in appearance depending on age and location it was found. But this will give you the basic idea of how different these two are. Note most teeth from all skulls are missing. (at http://bone-lust.blogspot.com)
11:01 pm • 22 May 2013 • 6 notes
Jack Rabbit Coyote Hills Regional Park, Fremont California by Jerry Ting
7:01 pm • 22 May 2013 • 682 notes
“No, you are never what you are—not entirely, not exactly— when you’re alone and living abroad and ceaselessly speaking a language not your own or not your mother tongue; but nor are you what you are in your own country when there’s a war on or when that country is dominated by rage or obstinacy or fear: to some degree you feel no responsibility for what you do or see, as if it all belonged to a provisional existence, parallel, alien, or borrowed, fictitious or almost dreamed—or, perhaps, merely theoretical, like my whole life, according to the anonymous report about me that I’d found among some old files; as if everything could be relegated to the sphere of the purely imaginary or of what never happened, and, of course, to the sphere of the involuntary; everything tossed into the bag of imaginings and suspicions and hypotheses and, even, of mere foolish dreams, about which, when you awake, all you can say is: ‘I didn’t want that anomalous desire or that murderous hatred or that baseless resentment to surface, or that temptation or that sense of panic or that desire to punish, that unknown threat or that surprising curse, that aversion or that longing which now lie like lead upon my soul each night, or the feeling of disgust or embarrassment which I myself provoke, or those dead faces, forever fixed, that made a pact with me that there would be no more tomorrows (yes, that is the pact we make with all those who fall silent and are expelled: that they neither do nor say anything more, that they disappear and cease changing) and which now come and whisper dreadful unexpected words to me, words that are perhaps unbecoming to them, or perhaps not, while I’m asleep and have dropped my guard: I have laid down my shield and my spear on the grass.’”
— - Javier Marías, Your Face Tomorrow 3: Poison, Shadow and Farewell (via uselessmemory)
2:01 pm • 22 May 2013 • 2 notes
Bronze Statuette of Cybele on a Cart Drawn by Lions
ca. 150 - 200 AD
The cult of the Anatolian mother goddess Kybele was introduced into Rome during the Second Punic War in the late third century B.C. and remained popular until early Christian times. The goddess is shown with her usual attributes, a patera (libation bowl) in her right hand and a large tympanum (drum) in her left. But instead of flanking her throne as they normally do, here the two oversized lions pull a chariot. This elaborate group comes from a fountain, in which spouts projected from the open mouths of the lions. The original cart, harness, and throne no longer survive; the rear left wheel is a nineteenth-century restoration.
Source: The Metropolitan Museum
1:01 pm • 22 May 2013 • 144 notes
Drawings by Stefan Zsaitsits.
From Australia, Stefan mixes child-like drawings with surrealistic scenes.
12:00 pm • 22 May 2013 • 301 notes