September 2009
“Among those whom I like, I can find no common denominator; but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh.”
—W.H. Auden (via kari-shma)
“We ate the birds. We ate them. We wanted their songs to flow up through their throats and burst out of our mouths. We wanted their feathers to bud from our flesh. We wanted their wings, we wanted to fly as they did, soar freely among the treetops and the clouds, and so we ate them. We speared them, we clubbed them, we tangled their feet in glue, we netted them, we spitted them, we threw them onto hot coals, and all for love, because we loved them. We wanted to be one with them. We wanted to hatch out of clean, smooth, beautiful eggs, as they did, back when we were young and agile and innocent of cause and effect, we did not want the mess of being born, and so we crammed the birds into our gullets, feathers and all, but it was no use, we couldn’t sing, not effortlessly as they did, we can’t fly, not without smoke and metal, and as for the eggs we didn’t stand a chance.
We’re mired in gravity, we’re earthbound. We’re ankle deep in blood, and all because we ate the birds, we ate them a long time ago, when we still had the power to say no.” —Margaret Atwood (via viciousfrenzy) (via harpy)
We’re mired in gravity, we’re earthbound. We’re ankle deep in blood, and all because we ate the birds, we ate them a long time ago, when we still had the power to say no.” —Margaret Atwood (via viciousfrenzy) (via harpy)
