31 de enero de 2011

Cave of Forgotten Dreams

I must drink twice as much!

I drink to bring myself down to the level of the common man. 
But remember: the common man drinks, 
so I must drink twice as much!

I don't know if the fantasy go beyond that...

I come here and imagine that this is the spot where everything I've lost since my childhood is washed out
I tell myself, if that were true, and I waited long enough then a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy. He'd wave. And maybe call. 

I don't know if the fantasy go beyond that, I can't let it. I remind myself I was lucky to have had any time with him at all. What I'm not sure about, is if our lives have been so different from the lives of the people we save. We all complete. Maybe none of us really understand what we've lived through, or feel we've had enough time.

I was intrigued by the unknown

I told myself, 'All I want is a normal life'. 
But was that true? I wasn't so sure

Because there was a part of me that enjoyed hating school, 
and the drama of not going, the potential consequences whatever they were.
I was intrigued by the unknown
I was even slightly thrilled that my mother was such a mess. 
Had I become addicted to crisis? 
I traced my finger along the windowsill.
 'Want something normal, want something normal, 
want something normal', I told myself.

You never quit on your music

You never quit on your music. No matter what happens. 
Cuz anytime something bad happens to you, 
that's the one place you can escape to and just let it go
I learned it the hard way. And anyway, look at me. 
Nothing bad's gonna happen. You gotta have a little faith.

I think most people miss that about you

I might be the only person on the face 
of the earth that knows you're the greatest woman on earth

I might be the only one who appreciates how amazing you are in every single thing that you do, and how you are with Spencer, "Spence," and in every single thought that you have, and how you say what you mean, and how you almost always mean something that's all about being straight and good. 

I think most people miss that about you
and I watch them, wondering how they can watch you 
bring their food, and clear their tables 
and never get that they just met the greatest woman alive.
 And the fact that I get it makes me feel good, about me.

You know what music is?

You know what music is? 
God's little reminder that 
there's something else besides us in this universe, 
a harmonic connection between all living beings, 
every where, even the stars.

You make me want to be a better man ♥

I’ve got a really great compliment for you, and it’s true.
Carol :
I’m so afraid you’re about to say something awful.

Melvin: Don’t be pessimistic, it’s not your style. Okay, here I go: Clearly, a mistake. I’ve got this, what - ailment? My doctor, a shrink that I used to go to all the time, he says that in fifty or sixty percent of the cases, a pill really helps. I hate pills, very dangerous thing, pills. Hate. I’m using the word “hate” here, about pills. Hate. My compliment is, that night when you came over and told me that you would never… well, you were there, you know what you said. Well, my compliment to you is, the next morning, I started taking the pills.

I don’t quite get how that’s a compliment for me.
You make me want to be a better man...
That’s maybe the best compliment of my life...

Feelings can creep up just like that...

Feelings can creep up just like that.
I thought I was in control.

And leave the secret there forever...

In the old days, if someone had a secret they didn’t want to share, you know what they did? 

They went up a mountain, found a tree, carved a hole in it, and whispered the secret into the hole.

Then they covered it with mud. 

And leave the secret there forever...

30 de enero de 2011

An eye for an ear, okay?

Do you know who I am?


Then you understand.
We're going to have a little contest now.
You'll stay under water...For three minutes.

If you do that I'll just do a little scratch.
If you don't...I'll cut out your eye.
An eye for an ear, okay?

But...It's impossible.
That's your problem.
Three minutes. Breathe deep!
Five...Four...Three...Two... One.

Shut up!
Let's get out of here.
Shut up, I said!

Oskar... I have to go...

Thank you.

I have to go...

But I Love You ♥

Minimalist Movie Posters ♥ - III

What were we going to do?...We're going to mix.

We're not allowed to be here, really.
This cellar is the best place.
We can do whatever we want.
You know, today...
They tried to throw me into a hole in the ice...

But I had a stick,
And I hit Conny in the head
So he had to go to the hospital.
Eli:  Oskar...?

What were we going to do?
We're going to mix.
It doesn't hurt at all.
All you have to do
is prick your finger.


Get out of here!!


Tell me so I don't feel so alone!

 and he doesn't want me anymore! do you feel better??
A little bit. How'd you meet him?

Terrence started seeing my dad after his mom died. She left him everything. He was 41 when I was 13. He told me I was pretty. And he made me believe it. One day, he broke my collar bone, and I had to hitch-hike to the emergency room, and I passed out on the side of the road, and somebody found me. My dad told him that he'd press charges and that he'd go to jail unless he donated money to my college fund. Then he did. $75, 000.

That's so great. So if you'd just apply...
My dad spent it. Every penny. So that the IRS wouldn't take this house. So... I do know what it's like, Augusten... to love somebody who doesn't deserve it. 'Cause they're all you have. God, I hate my life.
I hate this kitchen. I need high ceilings.
Me too.

Let's get rid of it then. Let's take down the ceiling!

Running With Scissors ♥

I will please shut the hell up the day you please drop the hell dead

My mother began to go crazy. Not in a 'Let's paint the kitchen red!' sort of way. But crazy in a 'gas oven, toothpaste sandwhich, I am God' sort of way

You deserve to need me, not to have me

I am prone to envy. It is one of my three default emotions, the others being greed and rage. I have also experienced compassion and generosity, but only fleetingly and usually while drunk, so I have little memory

It’s a wonder I’m even alive. Sometimes I think that. I think that I can’t believe I haven’t killed myself. But there’s something in me that just keeps going on. I think it has something to do with tomorrow, that there is always one, and that everything can change when it comes

We were young. We were bored. And the old electroshock therapy machine was just under the stairs in a box next to the Hoover

Doctor, if being a bitch is healthy, then I am the healthiest damn woman on the face of the earth

I just look at her and she creeps me out. She looks like she would eat a baby. Not that she's fat. She just looks hungry in some dangerous way that can't be explained. She's always so nice and friendly. Exactly the disposition of a baby killer.

Everybody in recovery smokes. If you don't like smoking, don't even bother trying to get sober. Just stay drunk

I couldn't help but think, This car is taking me to a mental hospital and my mother is treating it like open-mic night at a Greenwich Village café.

Other people sound flat to my ear; their words just hang in the air. But when my mother says something, the ends curl.

The line between normal and crazy seemed impossibly thin. A person would have to be an expert tightrope walker in order not to fall.

I felt deeply tricked. Stunned. And furious. I also felt my default emotion: numbness

Our lives are one endless stretch of misery punctuated by processed fast foods and the occasional crisis or amusing curiosity

I did not consider him to be any kind of a genius. I considered him deeply lacking in the area that mattered most in life. Star quality

My brother was born without taste or the desire to be professionally lit

It was not uncommon to walk in the door of their home and find my mother sitting on the sofa reading over a manuscript with shampoo horns sculpted into her hair. Anne Sexton's voice would be blasting from the speakers. A woman who writes feels too much...

Nobody's trying to kill you, Deirdre. You're killing yourself