epic status

this is a repeat of things if you have been particularly stalky:

(dec 11-jan 12)

Orpheu Mixes the Songs of the Dead: An Epic for the Ribs

"She's standing on the point where the river meets the ocean, with a wish in each hand. I ask her which one she's going to choose, and she says, "It doesn't matter, they're both the same. And every time you remember me, the moon gets a little bit bigger.""

"The siren who was protecting her door was reading the lines on my face, and said there was good news. "But it's strange," she said, "those flighty ones, those are the ones who know the least about flying, because anyone who knows about flight knows that first you have to learn how to fall.""

"Woke up to a braid of hair tangled in a blue cloth that smelled like the ocean. Heading back to the sea, trying to see how long I can pretend these things don't matter any more."

"The thing about waking up into a dream where you're underwater is that uncanny feeling that you never did leave there."

"La Bruja del Cobre is complaining about the cold, and wishing we had more of that soup I made for her a long time ago, and she is reading the blood running parallel to the bones in my hands. "Everyone has their own alchemy: art, love, or money," she says, "and yours is love. But you knew that already. For other people it's art." She is looking at my forehead and remembering something. "For other people, maybe, there's a difference.""

"Orpheus," she said, "if we don't act like this is a war, then maybe it won't be one. Can we stop acting like this is a war?"

"He wants to say something original and profound to Eurydice, at least mention the newest scars, but his tongue is hijacked by mad faeries. Fortunately for him. "'We miss you,' hiss the Lovecats," he says."

"He couldn't remember if he was going down or up, but either way this was deeper. There was the sound of wild dogs circling, and he could feel the marks she left on his back start to burn again. When hunger is sustained this long, it becomes something else, becomes part of the pulse, becomes a gash or a glimpse into the eye of a goddess who is always raining."

"She said that when the floor of the desert looks like the moon, when snakes fall from people's mouths when they speak, children's hands are hiding birds and dogs are disguising themselves as trees, you're closer to the moon than you think. And there's an ocean under your tongue, so remember that when everything hurts the opposite is also true."

"The dogs keep barking at the waves, and the woman with brooms for hands is frantic to clear the area of sand, on the other side of the mountain everyone is holding their breath steady; the longest night waiting just underneath the lips of the sea."

"My feet keep getting tangled in all the seaweed that threads its way through a year, and when I see bigger waves on the horizon, I start to panic, because I don't think I can run fast enough. The woman with scales on her legs keeps telling me that the threads are there to keep me from running in the first place. That's how it happened to her."

"It's the longest night of the year, the kind of darkness where you can't see your feet moving across the sand. The sounds of wild dogs and things of the sea start to gather from far away. The tides are the only things with a sense of direction on a day like this. A decision to stay still, and leave it up to them."

"dog wakes up barking, dog stands at the foot of the bed and licks my feet because she is ironic, dog says, i am the sea and the mountain, i am the fox and the wolf, the butter and the churn, the honey and the fingers, and you, you, you too are more than you were when you fell asleep."

"Covered with ribbons and bones, the dog wakes up again and again with the same dream about the love affair between the sun and the moon, where they carry each other's pictures in their wallets, the dog licks everything the dog sees to mark the returning of the light."

"The sun is staring at the moon for a long time, then says, "You, you look very familiar." The moon says, "Stop it, I am not playing that with you again.""

‎"You think about me way too much," is exactly what Persephone says, and she could very well be right. "You could very well be right," is exactly what Hades says, sprinkling more pomegranate seeds on her plate."

"Odysseus is looking at the sea with longing, and waiting for something from the moon, but she is silent (but she is smiling). He misses being on the water, even though it tries to tear him to pieces every time (and he is smiling)."

"When I open the door, 2011 is standing there, salty water dripping from her hair. "Just give me one more night," she says, and I should say no, but I can't."

"‎8-5 mentirosa revoltosa"

"five witches standing around me chewing on leaves with wild dogs in their eyes, they mark the ground with an 8; i'm asking, when do we go into the forest? and they're answering, when did you ever leave?"

"And so at the beginning of the year, the sun decided, that's enough, the moon is too much to think about, that he would forget her. But it really only worked for a week every month, and for three days it was so much it was more unbearable than ever."

"Fists full of feathers and a moon that pulls at the living and the dead, we never get over the reeling at the mysteries of birth."

"lunatic restless writing the book of love without the long spaces between the chapters (longing) and tickling the surface of the moonplanet with new hipster shoes, when failure is certain adventure is always near"

"The ground outside my door is covered on the morning after a vinegar moon; half-used love spells, branches coated with white chalk, and a small piece of chain. Like spring coming without warning, I'm not yet packed but already leaving."

"A white room, a white chair, a white cloth tied around her eyes, the blind sculptor reading my cards at a white table, and she says, "Shave the ribs, clear the area, make room for someone to write epics of underworld rescues over your ribs, using the bones as stepping stones.""

"The moon is up later than anyone, waiting to see the sun, a thunderdrum buried in the back of her throat, and a thousand kinds of courage gathering in the center of her rivers."

"I'm watching the movie about the guy who learns to appreciate his life and trying not to be too marxist about it, when five crows fly onto the coffee table and I can't see the film. "Ok, I give in. This is a beautiful and clumsy start to a year, one that's going to be good for any kind of birth.""

"things i still love in 2012:
butter, hysteria, mystical experience, devious stares, dark corners, blue lights, fearlessness, papaya, the cycles of nature and memory, the moon, impossibly spicy food, sitting in the dark, and cream."

"i had a dream that abelard & heloise were alive right now, and she wanted him, but she remembered what happened last time, and so all she could do was send him new wallpapers to decorate his room in cityville
#idontknowhowcityvilleworks #evenmydreamsarepretentious"

"He woke up to a starry sky, with no trace of the moon. She left without saying goodbye, he thought, unaware that she had burned herself into his shoulder over the course of two hundred and eighty sleepless nights."