"When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No ... don't blush. I am telling you some love. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? But it is!"
- louis de bernieres
captain corelli's mandolin (1994)
• • •"I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me. But it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax.. and stop trying to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain, and I can't feel anything but gratitude, for every single moment of my stupid, little life. You have no idea what I'm talking about I'm sure. But don't worry, you will someday."
- lester burnham
american beauty (1999)
• • •"Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat."
- ralph ellison
invisible man (1952)
• • •"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
-romans 8:28
the holy bible (1st century AD)
• • •- salzburg, austria
• • •so it's currently 4:15am and i cannot for the life of me, fall asleep. and, like, i know this happens to people randomly or every once in a while. but i LITERALLY cannot. go. to. sleep! this happens to me all of the time, i honestly think i'm an insomniac... yikes. so anyway, since i have nothing to do at four in the morning i started googling marvel actors and actresses, because what else is new in the life of rhett???? and– MARVEL IW RANT– you know how loki died in the first nine minutes and thirty seven seconds of the movie????? WELL GUESS WHAT?! i googled tom hiddleston because originally i wanted to watch the hollow crown (a bbc tv show tom starred in from 2012-2016), and guess who's CASTED FOR AVENGERS 4?????? tom mother fucking hiddleston. that's who. so the question is, IS HE REALLY DEAD???? which let's be honest, this is the third time he's done this now? loki "died" in the og thor, thor the dark world, and infinity war. so us marvel fans are not stupid, and we know that he's alive. also can we talk about how in one of loki's mythology stories he HAD SEX WITH A FUCKING HORSE AND THEN GAVE BIRTH TO ONE?! yeah. if you don't believe me, google it. it's there i promise you. yay norse mythology we love it....
- rhett anderson
blurb number 1 (2018)
• • •"It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning."
- h.g. wells
the time machine (1895)
• • •"We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things; because the shadow always follows. Choose a place where you won't do harm - yes, choose a place where you won't do very much harm, and stand in it for all you are worth, facing the sunshine."
- e.m. forster
a room with a view (1908)
• • •just two days after the first of june,
a pine with arms brushing off the dew,
unlike a sky copious with death,
precipitation of heart and head,
should wash the rest of her youth away,
and carry on with it as she may,
but something's pending curvaceously,
'cuz sunburned skin won't agree with me,
it should've been me,
it should've been me,
it should've been me,
it should've been me,- hippo campus
monsoon — landmark (2017)
• • •blue.
all she could see is blue.
she could feel the soft ripples of his fingers grazing her arms in an 'up and down' motion.
she could hear him whispering sweet rhymes in her ears.
she shivers, looking down at her sock covered feet.
looks up again and see blue.
icy blue.
but this icy blue is not cold and frigid.
this blue is welcoming and calming like a stilled lake in the winter time.
they are soft.
icy, but soft.
and she loves every minute of gazing into his icy blues.
her knees weaken at the sight of his physique, but her entire body melts listening to his soft spoken words.
he speaks with such eloquence and confidence she assumes that he's a man out of time; that he should have lived in europe during the medieval.
where kings and queens ruled all of the land and the princes and princesses ran off to the gardens to do things that were considered a transgression in their time.
time.
in time she focuses on him, and only him.
in time he focuses on her, and only her.
in time they prove to each other their love and their worth.
pastel moans fill the quiet room.
the only thing sparking up a conversation was the crackling of the fire.
articles of clothing slip off after every tender moment.
her eyes work like a camera lens, he is the only thing in perfect focus.
everything else a blur.
he takes his time, drinking her all in.
he wonders how he ever got so lucky, to be having these moments with the most breathtaking woman.
she completes him.
once again he runs his fingers lightly over her.
his movements slow and sultry.
he plants delicate kisses along her body, starting from the corner of her lips and trailing all the way down to her thighs.
euphoria is all she can feel.
blue is all she can see.
moaning is all she can hear.
he is all she knows.
after tending to each other she felt soft and plush furs tickling her bare back.
she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him as close as there bare bodies would allow.
they fit perfectly, like God himself had used his own hands to give them purpose.
to give them each other.
and they proved their love to each other.
all night.- rhett anderson
blue euphoria (2018)
• • •- london, england
YOU ARE READING
artistic journal
Randomthe never-ending string of pieces of literature flowing through my brain.