David Szalay’s “Flesh” has won the 2025 Booker Prize, beating the likes of Kiran Desai’s “The Loneliness of Sonia & Sunny” and Katie Kitamura’s “Audition." https://t.co/qGQJchfMfc

#ArtnetNews : George Condo will now be jointly represented by Sprüth Magers and Skarstedt. While Sprüth Magers has been working with the artist for more than 40 years, and Skarstedt previously collaborated with Condo from 2004 to 2019, the artist had been represented by mega https://t.co/Kxw4i84Y00

In death

Floating along the wisp of life.
Feeling lost in heavens great strife.
My love is finally broken in shards.
The hatred that begins with you ends
With news of angst from stars and bars.

I read your palms time after time.
None of it can make any sense.
Joking and poking with a mime.
Often you gave in to your tense
Meaning when Venus was Aline with mars.

Getting no where with this simple song.
My anger is burnt up with your desire.
The angel in black has burned with fire.
Laughing with its evil, grinning bong.
My shroud is grass, the coffin is now.

The Widow - Gustave Dore

Tragic Ending

The light at the end of went out too soon
This kid wasn't meant to fall to his doom
Today the school is mourning his death
Crying in the halls, not able to rest
These kids really loved him
He wasn't meant to die so soon

Six more months until his graduation
An empty chair, and hearts left with questions
Tears and memory's in behalf of his blessings
This schools never going to be the same
He came so fast and left too soon
These kids really loved him

Standing in the halls they reminisce
All the good things about him they'll always miss
He's the only kid in school who spun a binder on his finger
Carried a boom box when skiing down the hill
Something I think about to this day still
Yet I can't seem to understand what was going through his head
I came to school, finding out this kid he was dead
A tragic ending to an unfinished story

But here's the hard truth that we all need to hear: there's nothing special about your demons. Carl doesn't just visit me. He visits millions of people around the world every day. And while this might hurt my ego a little bit (damn you, Carl, I felt so special with you), that realization that I'm not" target="_blank" class="inline-link">https://markmanson.net/bei... as special as I thought is damn liberating.

Weakening Strength

I’m weak and tired,
shaky and damaged.
Why does strength make me
weak?
Why every time I stand strong
do I shake and inside,
turn meek?
Strength rips off my flesh
and tears my insides
so the timid, helpless child
can no longer hide—
No longer hide
the tears, the screams
the slashing, the gashing,
the moaning the pain,
the ashes, the crashes,
the rain, no gain.
Strength grabs me, it stabs me
and sets me afire;
it slaps me, it snaps me,
running me down
to the mud and the mire.
I walk proudly
as strength kills me from the
inside out.
I scream and shout
but my pain reaches not one ear
while I fall and shake,
cry and break;
yelling for something to save
me,
for strength to stop raping me
and killing me
with every breath I take.

AEQUUS - Manuel Alcaide Mengual

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