“It’s known as the Holocaust, but it’s greeted like the rapture. A sound engineer says it sounds “pretty similar to a jet taking off,” and it has the decibel readings to prove it (roughly 130). “The sound moved my face,” blogged Deerhunter’s Bradford Cox. “My balls retracted.” The sound is the live rendition of “You Made Me Realise,” the signature track with which My Bloody Valentine, reformed after 13 years of silence, has been ending each of its reunion-tour sets— a cacophonous, hypnotic, fill-the-void version built from a multi-octave sea of bent tones.” —
“And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal in their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they’re nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we’d be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing.” —Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart.
“I’m one of those women who people call a dynamo, a powerhouse, that kind of thing. I practically raised myself; I’ve been working since i was in high school, supporting myself since college, I’m tough, I’m scrappy, I’ve got my own money, I don’t need nothing or no one. So whenever I get involved with some guy, he’s shocked to find out that I’m so human. I have such needs—I’m like everyone else, only more so. I’ve been waiting for a break from holding it together for so long that sometimes I just fall apart. And I always fall in love with these men who seem so sweet and angelic, gentle guys with softness and love. and then I’m shocked to find out that they, too, are human. They can be harsh, they can be mean, and sometimes I see them start to hate me for being such a sad girl, after all. We’re all hurt and disgusted by the bait-and-switch, like I never asked for this, where did that person go? And here’s what it comes down to: Most people would expect that my financial, artistic and intellectual independence would be matched with an equal degree of emotional independence. But that’s not how it is at all. All my good, solid ideals, all my feminist principles, all my hardy beliefs—and in the end, I just go to mush.” —
Elizabeth Wurtzel, Now, More, Again. (via robot-heart)
True story: I bought this the very first day it came out, excited to finally be getting a new book from Elizabeth Wurtzel and then read it in about three hours.