"The world’s revolutions have come forth from the pit of starved stomachs. Choleric emotions, stubborn, impassioned, and raw, have the power to create the necessary recipe-tempest for people to cast away, and resist their current oppression. However, the origins of this hunger cannot be alleviated by just bread. No. It is within the unbreakable desire to be. In the most simplest terms, I’m convinced that our painful desire to keep eating, keep consuming—both the material and immaterial is because we are maddened by a craving to transcend our state of being. Through our digestive process we are able to take external materials and for a few moments, before disposal, become more than just our thinking ape selves. We feel the need to engage in an everyday breakfast cereal eucharist of the beauty we seek to capture. Our various orifices—the mouth, the eyes, and the ears—seek to be filled. We seek to eat the creative expression. For an apple is the creative expression of the tree. The theatres, the cinema, the art gallery, are the places of filling—the supreme restraunts of the senses. When you disengage people from their capacity and capability to eat loveliness, you enrage them. Do not enrage them. Feed them. Or else, kingdoms come to their feet, and the devouring begins!”
Polaroids of Adrien Brody, Jason Schwartzman, and Owen Wilson on the set of The Darjeeling Limited
Jeff Buckley (November 17th 1966 - May 29th 1997)
You know why I need feminism? Truly? If I were to make a sign? Because my own life is a testament of why feminism is still needed, critical, and completely and utterly necessary. In a single night I have been told: I am too stupid to function because women’s brains aren’t very large and all the extra knowledge has made me crazy; I am a failure because I’m twenty-something and I can’t control my night terrors (that I have due to the violence); I deserve all the awful things that have happened to me in life because I was born with a bad, blackened, and evil witch soul; No one will ever love me, and I will never amount to anything. This is because I come from a cultural consciousness where daughter’s lives are seen as the avenues in which women who never got to realize their own dreams and potential can embed their own entire life’s worth. Where there is absolutely no leniency for fault or pleasure—— any strand of humanness is seen as dishonor. My life is accumulation of a heritage of women who police one another’s bodies carousing in the mythology that one’s body fitting into tying and controlling systems of feminine virtue and “morality” is inexorably linked to self-validation. I am a product of a culture that does not believe in mental health. I am the animated mannequin of a cultural script that does not believe women were made to be independent and autonomous.