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The Narrow Corner

What doesn't kill you mutates and tries again.

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Showing posts from December, 2022

Saturday, December 31, 2022

Day 213 | Adieu 2022 !

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Friday, December 30, 2022

DAY 212

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Thursday, December 29, 2022

DAY 211 | Fantasy Island

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Wednesday, December 28, 2022

DAY 210.1

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Wednesday, December 28, 2022

DAY 210 | All I want for Xmas is you

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Tuesday, December 27, 2022

DAY 209 | Raúl

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Monday, December 26, 2022

DAY 208

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Sunday, December 25, 2022

DAY 207

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Sunday, December 25, 2022

Christmas Day | The Loot

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Saturday, December 24, 2022

Stille Nacht

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Saturday, December 24, 2022

Heilige Nacht

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Saturday, December 24, 2022

DAY 206.1 | Le Père Noël est une ordure (clip vidéo : le kloug)

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Saturday, December 24, 2022

DAY 206 | Cory

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Friday, December 23, 2022

DAY 205.2 | Retina

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Friday, December 23, 2022

DAY 205 | Way Out West (+video)

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Thursday, December 22, 2022

DAY 204.1

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Thursday, December 22, 2022

DAY 204 | Momentarily

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Wednesday, December 21, 2022

DAY 203.1 | Freddy

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Wednesday, December 21, 2022

DAY 203 | Dear Santa

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Tuesday, December 20, 2022

DAY 202.1 | GUYS

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Tuesday, December 20, 2022

DAY 202

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Monday, December 19, 2022

Day 201.1 | Dear Santa

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Monday, December 19, 2022

DAY 201

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Monday, December 19, 2022

DAY 6 till Christmas

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Sunday, December 18, 2022

DAY 200.3 | Azuñia Avocado Margarita

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Sunday, December 18, 2022

Day 200.2 | Linus

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Sunday, December 18, 2022

DAY 200.1

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Sunday, December 18, 2022

DAY 200 | Dear Santa

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Saturday, December 17, 2022

DAY 199 | Dear Santa

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Friday, December 16, 2022

DAY 198.2

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Friday, December 16, 2022

DAY 198.1 | Outrageous Pulchritude (III)

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Friday, December 16, 2022

DAY 198 | Dear Santa

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Thursday, December 15, 2022

DAY 197.1

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Thursday, December 15, 2022

DAY 197 | Dear Santa

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Wednesday, December 14, 2022

DAY 196 (+ video)

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Tuesday, December 13, 2022

DAY 195.2 | Nik

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Tuesday, December 13, 2022

DAY 195.1 | B&W

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Tuesday, December 13, 2022

DAY 195 | Dear Santa

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Monday, December 12, 2022

Day 194.3 | Le train dans la neige

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Monday, December 12, 2022

DAY 194.2 | Naked truth

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Monday, December 12, 2022

DAY 194.1 | Dear Santa

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Monday, December 12, 2022

DAY 194 | Dear Santa

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Sunday, December 11, 2022

DAY 193.3 | A handful of lust

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Sunday, December 11, 2022

DAY 193.2 | El Presidente

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Sunday, December 11, 2022

DAY 193.1 | Finnish winter camouflage

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Sunday, December 11, 2022

DAY 193 | Jakob

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Saturday, December 10, 2022

DAY 192.1 | Florian

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Saturday, December 10, 2022

DAY 192 | Vol de nuit

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Friday, December 09, 2022

DAY 191.1 | Dear Santa

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Friday, December 09, 2022

DAY 191 | outrageous pulchritude (II)

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We all like to think...

"We all like to think that we have some control over the events in our lives, and a lot of the time we can fool ourselves into thinking that we really are in charge. But then something happens to remind us that the world runs by its own rules and not ours and that we're just along for the ride."

— Allie Keys

I've got to tell you...

I've got to tell you how I love you always I think of it on grey mornings with death

in my mouth the tea is never hot enough then and the cigarette dry the maroon robe

chills me I need you and look out the window at the noiseless snow

At night on the dock the buses glow like clouds and I am lonely thinking of flutes

I miss you always when I go to the beach the sand is wet with tears that seem mine

although I never weep and hold you in my heart with a very real humor you'd be proud of

the parking lot is crowded and I stand rattling my keys the car is empty as a bicycle

what are you doing now where did you eat your lunch and were there lots of anchovies it

is difficult to think of you without me in the sentence you depress me when you are alone

Last night the stars were numerous and today snow is their calling card I'll not be cordial

there is nothing that distracts me music is only a crossword puzzle do you know how it is

when you are the only passenger if there is a place further from me I beg you do not go

― Frank O'Hara, Lunch Poems

Los pensamientos que nos enloquecen...

Los pensamientos que nos enloquecen con la peor de las locuras siempre llegan poco a poco y como sin sentir, como sin sentir invade la niebla los campos, o la tisis los pechos. Avanza, fatal, incansable, pero lenta, despaciosa, regular como el pulso.

― Camilo José Cela, La familia de Pascual Duarte

A man...

A man was the cause of it. An unarmed man with a weapon.

― Frank O'Hara, Lunch Poems

Followers

You know in cartoons...

"You know in cartoons, the way someone can run off a cliff and they're fine, they don't fall until they look down? That's the secret of life. Never look down. But it's more than that. It's not just about not looking. It's about not ever realizing that you're in the middle of the air and you don't know how to fly."

— Allie Keys

Cabine

"Rappelez-moi d'une cabine qui fonctionne !"

- Thérèse, Le Père Noël est une ordure

Ya sé que le gustan...

No. Ya sé que le gustan cuerpos recientes, jóvenes, que le resisten bien y no se rinden pronto. Busca carnes rosadas, dientes firmes, ardientes ojos que aún no recuerdan. Los quiere más. Así su estrago no se confundirá con el quemar del tiempo, arruinando los rostros y los torsos derechos. Su placer es abrir la arruga en la piel fresca, romper los puros vidrios de los ojos intactos con la lágrima cálida. Doblar la derechura de los cuerpos perfectos, de modo que ya sea más difícil mirar al cielo desde ellos. Sus días sin victoria son esos en que quiebra no más que cuerpos viejos en donde el tiempo ya tiene matado mucho. Su gran triunfo, su júbilo tiene color de selva: es la sorpresa, es tronchar la plena flor, las voces en la cima del cántico, los altos mediodías del alma.

— Pedro Salinas, El dolor

Yo, señor...

Yo, señor, no soy malo, aunque no me faltarían motivos para serlo. Los mismos cueros tenemos todos los mortales al nacer y sin embargo, cuando vamos creciendo, el destino se complace en variarnos como si fuésemos de cera y en destinarnos por sendas diferentes al mismo fin: la muerte. Hay hombres a quienes se les ordena marchar por el camino de las flores, y hombres a quienes se les manda tirar por el camino de los cardos y de las chumberas. Aquellos gozan de un mirar sereno y al aroma de su felicidad sonríen con la cara del inocente; estos otros sufren del sol violento de la llanura y arrugan el ceño como las alimañas por defenderse. Hay mucha diferencia entre adornarse las carnes con arrebol y colonia, y hacerlo con tatuajes que después nadie ha de borrar ya.

— Camilo Jose Cela, La familia de Pascual Duarte

Tarie la source

nul voyage au débouché
de la nuit
aumône refusée
mon amour décomposé
n'aura duré qu'une saison
même pas
quelques jours enfermés
dans le ciel de ses yeux
l'amour n'aura duré
que le temps d'inscrire
sur la paroi du silence
un nom déjà fané
à quoi bon continuer
rien n'avance
rien ne change
la multitude du désespoir
campe sous mes paupières
encore une fois j'ai échoué
distrait par le froid et les larmes
encore une fois
j'ai fait entendre ma voix
dans le galop de la détresse
et rien ne bouge
rien ne s'illumine
la fête est finie
tarie la source
l'heure est venue de disparaître
à jamais
toujours vaincu
solidaire des désastres
et des écroulements
il est temps d'interrompre
le vol silencieux du sang
dans mes veines
il est temps
de joindre l'ombre et la glace
de s'enfoncer sans hésiter
dans le dédale de l'oubli

— Francis Giauque, Tarie la source

There is no such thing as 'toxic masculinity'

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