al-talib

Latest Posts by al-talib

Our knees rattle as a prayer, should our voices fail to speak.

As we have done to our ancestors, so will our descendants do to us.                         We who are descended from giants, who fell from their shoulders                           to rise to new heights on impossible steel and glass towers,                                  who'll fall from those?                                                                                                                         I wonder.

Your needle has worn my grooves to deep.

How deep is hidden the Holy Seat of your Love? This love that burns in all for others

Do not love others so swiftly As Saint Paul said so long ago; Thy body is a temple”

Love thyself first then I say That you may love others more purely.

Silence is death, nothing is death

Then, death is nothing at all.

Whoever said that I was brave enough to face all this?

I am fish, looking for what he’s swimming in.

By now the water must’ve grown tired of me, who swims so lost, so aimlessly,

Learning in itself should be the goal, not earning money.

Rest in peace Cruzeiro Seixas (1920-2020)

Strip my skin and free my soul. Help me turn my back on my former self, help me shine from the inside out. Grant me the strength to smile through the process of gentle, silent, pain.

Nancy Spero. Artemis, Goddess and Centaur, 1983.

hand-printing on paper

I love this piece, a lot. By Vasily Kafanov

subliming.jpg

no more meeting people in real life no more dating apps it’s just I meet you in my dream and we sit in each other’s souls.

Seeing unhealthy patterns in your family and deciding that those pattens end with you and will not be passed down to future generations is an extremely brave and powerful decision.

Forgive yourself for repeating what was taught to you as a child, then put the conscious effort into deprogram these patterns.

Have I established a pattern perhaps?

A bi-annual mental collapse?

Where did the bodies go?

Anything to add to the library

Giveaway Contest: We’re giving away fifteen paperback classics featuring James Joyce, J.D. Salinger, Harper Lee, Jane Austen, Shakespeare, and others! Won’t this collection look lovely on your shelf? :D To win these classics, you must: 1) be following macrolit on Tumblr (yes, we will check. :P), and 2) reblog this post. We will choose a random winner on August 30, at which time we’ll start a new giveaway. And yes, we’ll ship to any country. Easy, right? Good luck! Follow macrolit.books to qualify for our IG giveaway. 📚

We Fight

People bray, and shout, and scream                                                               They fight and rage against the machine.                                                           Yet fire still falls from the sky                                                                                Mothers pray and children cry                                                                               And voices are still silenced beneath the bloodstained sand and sun and snow, and tomorrow still torrents towards us from a strange and distant land.

History doesn’t remember everything, history forgets too. Names lost in the sands, how many things buried in the bottom of the hourglass?

Saints are sinners that learned to live with themselves.

The streets fill up again as though no disease could touch them. The renters return, the trees go from bare to lush and green. Oh God, another summer in a winter town. My God, another summer, with no one around.

Be a fool, and learn.

insanity is singing “confrontation” from jekyll & hyde with different voices at 3 am

Nothing like the constant feeling of inadequacy to keep me company as I stare at the empty page, ignoring the heaps of deadlines that advance like the shadow of death.

The night sound of sand on sand, the rustling of ancient books, the call to prayer in the crumbling city. All left behind, and all coming back, and all already here.The sunken city will howl through our dreams again: The City of the Old Ones, The Pillars, The Forgotten.

Writing tips I know but never use #2

Art is hard, writing especially. You shouldn’t wait for inspiration to hit you, you should sharpen your blades, ready the guns, and hunt the damn thing down. Pin it to the page, and hold it there until it stops struggling. Go outside looking for it, talk to someone random on the bus about their coat, call a friend and ask them what the weirdest experience of their life involving the colour blue is. Hunt inspiration, do not let it hunt you.

Writing tips I know but never use    #1

When you have an idea, write it down and stick to it. Doesn’t matter if it’s a tremendously stupid idea, like a microwave that sends food through time. Write the first chapter, where Napoleon receives a microwave home dinner which determines the outcome of the battle of Waterloo. The point is that you write it, and finish it. Even if you will never let it see the light of day, it is something that you can look at later to find the story you want to write. 

Commit to an idea, however weird, and see it through. It will be very valuable in the long run.

Every ghost story is the translation of trauma. Every heartbreak can produce ghosts, as every first kiss can create romance.