ExE 00

“I dreamed I saw my maternal grandmother sitting by the bank of a swimming pool, that was also a river. In real life, she had been a victim of Alzheimer’s disease, and had regressed, before her death, to a semi-conscious state. In the dream, as well, she had lost her capacity for self-control. Her genital region was exposed, dimly; it had the appearance of a thick mat of hair. She was stroking herself, absent-mindedly. She walked over to me, with a handful of pubic hair, compacted into something resembling a large artist’s paint-brush. She pushed this at my face. I raised my arm, several times, to deflect her hand; finally, unwilling to hurt her, or interfere with her any farther, I let her have her way. She stroked my face with the brush, gently, and said, like a child, “isn’t it soft?” I looked at her ruined face and said, “yes, Grandma, it’s soft.”
― Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief

“At the end of it all, in those darkest of day, smiles man atop the mountain debris. He can see the many stars, smell the coming wind, only now does he know that he's free.”
― Mike Ma, Harassment Architecture

“You are not made out of needs, you are made out of your dreams and desires.”
― Brom, Slewfoot: A Tale of Bewitchery

“Wouldst thou like the taste of butter? A pretty dress? Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”
― Robert Eggers, The Witch