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"The pleasure of the text is that moment when my body follows its own ideas, for my body does not have the same ideas as I."

Roland Barthes, The Pleasure of the Text

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Le Plaisir du Texte, R. Barthes, 1973

[The text is a fetish object and this fetish desires me. The text chooses me, through a whole arrangement of invisible screens, of selective chicanes: vocabulary, references, readability, etc.; and, lost in the middle of the text (not behind it like a machine god), there is always the other, the author.]

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““…Writers remember everything…especially the hurts. Strip a writer to the buff, point to the scars, and he’ll tell you the story of each small one. From the big ones you get novels. A little talent is a nice thing to have if you want to be a writer, but the only real requirement is the ability to remember the story of every scar.
Art consists of the persistence of memory.””

— - Stephen King, Misery

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 恭喜发财 everyone.

This one is just for Tumblr. You can tell because I am in my pyjamas. (I just had to teach my computer the spelling Pyjamas, after it corrected it to pajamas)

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Metallic Green Sweat Bees (Agapostemon texanus), T - female and B - male, family Halictidae, Kirkland, Washington, USA

photographs by Tina LaBonte

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Green Scarab (Pelidnota prasina), family Scarabaeidae, Finca Heimatlos Eco Lodge and Farm, near Puyo, Ecuador

photograph by Eerika Schulz

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Chema Madoz, ‘Poetics of Objects’ | Arquitectura Viva

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Have you done dysphania numana yet?

Moth Of The Day #285

Dysphania numana

From the geometridae family. There's little to no information recorded about this moth.

Image sources: [1] [2]

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Jacob Elordi in "Saltburn"

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“I'd woken up early, and I took a long time getting ready to exist.”

Fernando Pessoa. The Book of Disquiet.

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My God, my God, whose performance am I watching? How many people am I? Who am I? What is this space between myself and myself?

—Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

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“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this.”

— Henry David Thoreau