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“ People don’t want things to make sense. Know why? Because if they did we’d all be in trouble. You drive too fast down the street because it feels good or you’re in a hurry. If things made sense, a cop would stop you every single time and give you a ticket. But what happens when a cop *does* stop you? You get angry and say that’s not fair! But sure it’s fair. It also makes sense. If life made sense we’d either behave ourselves a hell of a lot better or be walking around scared, waiting for the punishment due us for all the bad things we do every day.
“We want life to make sense only when it’s to our advantage. Otherwise, it’s interesting not knowing what’s coming next. Maybe you’ll get heads, maybe tails. People do wrong things all the time and get away with it. Good people get their neck broken. Would you prefer it if only the good people got rewarded? How often are you good? How often do you deserve the good *you* get? Wouldn’t you rather have an interesting life that a fair one?
— Jonathan Carroll

(Source: facebook.com)
jonathancarrollstories: I bumped into someone on the street yesterday I hadn’t seen for ages. Kiss kiss how ARE you? Blah blah. She told me shey’d recently moved to the neighborhood and was just getting used to what stores to use, what restaurants, etcetera. The back story on this woman is she is very beautiful, *very* messed up, and very charismatic. She’s probably broken more hearts than any person I have ever known, but she does it innocently and without the slightest bit of guile. She just is who she is and that’s a major handful. Whenever I’ve seen her in the past, she’s always been involved with a number of men at the same time but none of them know about each other until she tells them and then boom. Ever since we met years ago I’ve wanted to use her as a character in a novel, but just can’t figure her out. I’m often asked if I use people from real life as the basis for characters in my books. I always say yes, but with lots of alterations naturally. It’s like bringing a new coat to the tailor and having them take it in a little here, let out the sleeves, etcetera. But there are some people you’d love to put into a book but they just don’t fit, or some intangible part of them won’t let you. No, not me. When we said goodbye yesterday, I stood on the street watching her walk away thinking once again, damn it, she’d be so great in a story but it ain’t gonna happen. - Jonathan Carroll
fotostopp: Idealer geht’s nicht …
kiyoaki: (vía Recent Work & Merry Christmas!)
“ Riding through Vienna on a bus, something dawned on me that I’d never thought of before: While moving along, I kept seeing places and sites that live vividly in my memory because of events that happened there: The faded Czech gasthaus where I often ate dinner during a bitter cold winter and where one evening before the food came, I finished writing my book THE WOODEN SEA. The outdoor restaurant next to the Danube Canal where A and I sat one glorious summer afternoon while the annual Viennese Gay/Love Parade was marching by a hundred feet away, trance music blasting. Memories like that. I realized everyone has their own very personal and private map of where they live. If a million people populate a city, then there are one million different maps. Whether it’s a city or a small town, there are precise sites and ‘x marks these spots’ all over it that are important or sacred or yes, sometimes crushing— but only to you and occasionally the others who shared the experience with you. Although everyone has their own map, they rarely overlap because what matters to me, what I remember about the importance of those places in my life, frequently means little to you and vice versa. Only after you’ve been with someone a long time are your maps similar. Even so, there remain places the people in our lives, even intimates, will never know the significance of to us: the park bench where you were kissed, a bar where he wept, the café with the huge windows that serves the great bagels, even those airport exit doors you watched so intensely while waiting for them to arrive that miraculous December night… The rest of the planet will pass these locations without a glance or a thought. But whenever *you* pass them you think there it is— that one is fixed forever on the map of me.
— Jonathan Carroll

(Source: facebook.com)
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