Hi, I'm Ari, and I suffer from a tendency to get stuck in fiction. This is a blog about seeking happiness in my day-to-day and remembering to stay present.

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Ray Bradbury: The reason why my books are popular is because they know I am a lover. My works are poetic… I didn’t know I was writing poetry— but I am! And at the center of my books is the gift of life. That day, when I was twelve, and discovered I was alive… So that’s the gift I give to them, and I want them to carry them back and forth to the library. {x}

Ray Bradbury: The reason why my books are popular is because they know I am a lover. My works are poetic… I didn’t know I was writing poetry— but I am! And at the center of my books is the gift of life. That day, when I was twelve, and discovered I was alive… So that’s the gift I give to them, and I want them to carry them back and forth to the library. {x}

(Source: van-whoa)

delightfullyvague said: That there looks like a film camera. Was it?

Nope! Digital. Just a lucky shot, I guess. 

Early October.

Early October.

This body I am has been called other, alien, ugly, sexy, worthless, and fascinating. Much of my work is an attempt to write myself into those names, to speak to and with and about them. To say yes to this body that’s been a beacon for hatred, that’s been called “model minority” and used to oppress others, that’s let me down and given me everything I’ve ever needed.

— Franny Choi, from an interview in The California Journal of Women Writers

What’s the answer, he wondered, walking through the library, putting out the lights, putting out the lights, putting out the lights, is it all in the whorls on our thumbs and fingers? Why are some people all grasshopper fiddlings, scrapings, all antennae shivering, one big ganglion eternally knotting, slip-knotting, square-knotting themselves? They stoke a furnace all their lives, sweat their lips, shine their eyes and start it all in the crib. Caesar’s lean and hungry friends. They eat the dark, who only stand and breathe.

That’s Jim, all bramblehair and itchweed.

And Will? Why, he’s the last peach, high on a summer tree.

— Ray, Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

I am caught in this contradiction: on the one hand, I believe I know the other better than anyone and triumphantly assert my knowledge to the other (“I know you—I’m the only one who really knows you!”); and on the other hand, I am often struck by the obvious fact that the other is impenetrable, intractable, not to be found; I cannot open up the other, trace back the other’s origins, solve the riddle.

[…] It is not true that the more you love, the better you understand; all that the action of love obtains from me is merely this wisdom: that the other is not to be known; his opacity is not the screen around a secret, but instead, a kind of evidence in which the game of reality and appearance is done away with. I am seized with that exaltation of loving someone unknown, someone who will remain so forever: a mystic impulse.

A Lover’s Discourse, Fragments (“The Unknowable”) by Roland Barthes. Translated by Richard Howard.

mollymimieux:

Imagine that one day the whole world would look like this.

(Source: boredpanda.com, via citizenbreq)

I played dress-up today.

Sorry for the background clutter.

pedestrianberkshires:

Ruins of the Aspinwall Hotel
Built 1902
Burned down in 1931
John Drummond Kennedy Park
Lenox, MA

yo justasklionheart remember how we searched for this so hard we nearly ended up at the church on the hill and then the sun set and we had to find our way back to the car in semi-darkness only to realize I’d had a flashlight in my bag the whole time? And we still never found it? And then we went for a night swim.

Good times.

I haven’t been reading enough! I need you all to help me stay on task. I’m setting myself a goal of one book per week.

This week I’m reading Drift by Rachel Maddow. Two chapters in and so far it’s been mostly a lot of Reagan-bashing, but I think the premise is solid (that military operations in the US, which pre-Vietnam relied on the participation and approval of citizens, have now moved so far out of the public conscience that most of us barely know when wars are being fought; this is bad, how can we fix it?) 

I’m also still reading A Lover’s Discourse, but let’s be real, I will always be reading that. Forever and ever, amen.

color gradient ivy.

color gradient ivy.

(Source: spoopymirrors)

I love. Brussels sprouts.
(the boyfriend got these for me at the farmer’s market today <3)

I love. Brussels sprouts.

(the boyfriend got these for me at the farmer’s market today <3)

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