Kalle: "What are you doing tonight?"
Me: "I’m going to drink wine in the bathtub."
Kalle: "Are you okay?"
Me: "Yes, why do you ask?"
Kalle: "Oh, I guess it’s worse if had you said ‘I am going to drink wine in a bathtub’."
0 notes
0 notes
He is very religious. He was like, 'God gave my this ass', and I believe him.
— Hommeboys
0 notes
(I am into resting)
1 note
·
View note
One way or the other.
0 notes
One morning as I was leaving, the director said I didn't have to leave the set anymore. What happened? Why did they change their ways of treating me? I came to the realization that it was because I had a mother. My mother spoke highly of me, and to me. But more important, whether they met her or simply heard about her, she was there with me. She had my back, supported me. This is the role of the mother, and in that visit I really saw clearly, and for the first time, why a mother is really important. Not just because she feeds and also loves and cuddles and even mollycoddles a child, but because in an interesting and maybe an eerie and unworldly way, she stands in the gap. She stands between the unknown and the known. In Stockholm, my mother shed her protective love down around me and without knowing why people sensed that I had value.
—Maya Angelou
0 notes
1 note
·
View note
“He said nothing. I knew when I saw him that it would be useless to ask anything while he was in that state...He explained when we were smaller that when things were very bad his soul just crawled behind his heart and curled up and went to sleep. When it awoke, the fearful thing had gone away...I also had to swear that when his soul was sleeping I would never try to wake it, for the shock might make it go to sleep forever.”
—Maya Angelou
1 note
·
View note
Mother's beauty made her powerful and her power made her unflinchingly honest.
—Maya Angelou
0 notes
I am happy to have something in common with Maya Angelou.
1 note
·
View note
It must be hard for you to meet someone in Sonoma. And, all of your friends are gay.
My mother’s lament, c. 2019
0 notes
Hamlet with
a cormorant
under his arm
married Ophelia.
She was still
wet from drowning.
She looked like
a white flower
that has been
left in the
rain too long.
I love you,
said Ophelia,
and I love
that dark
bird you
hold in
your arms.
—Richard Brautigan
0 notes
Reality hurts you because you’re sensitive.
1 note
·
View note
Suffering vs. Suffern, New York.
0 notes