André Malraux selecting photographs for the Imaginary Museum, c1947, Photo by Maurice Jarnoux
Shoutout to Samuel Beckett for becoming one of my favorite playwrights.
You must go on.
I can’t go on.
I’ll go on. —Samuel Beckett; The Unnamable (via marry-the-nightt)
“Then one day, suddenly, it ends, it changes, I don’t understand, it dies, or it’s me, I don’t understand that either. I ask the words that remain sleeping, waking, morning, evening. They have nothing to say.”— Endgame, Samuel Beckett
Swans - In My Garden
In my garden
Things grow in my garden
Things will grow
Then they die
Then they fall away
Then they’re gone
The sun is rising over the buildings across the street
The sun is god’s face looking down at me as he cries for what he’s done
I will survive my life if I close my mind to all the things
I could never, never, never, never, never, never be
You used to be there when I’d cry, though you’d not see fit to comfort me
I don’t need you anyway, and I’ll never call you back to me
But I miss the way your body looks when you lay there naked next to me
But I won’t cry, no, I will survive the light of the sun as it enters me
Let it come right in, let the sun come in
Now they say that hell is a place where memory’s dead and the only
thing left is this moment moving further away
But I will always try to remember the way you moved your lips
against mine in the lonely bed
If I forget who you were then, I will lose what I am now
Forever and ever and ever and ever again
No matter how big your house is, how flashy your car is, how expensive your clothes are, Our graves are going to be the same size.