Anonymous asked

what is life

Honestly, if you find someone who knows the answer to that, please let me know.

mianoti:

William S. Burroughs * [+] (Ubu)
The index for the “Interzone” manuscript (click on the image to see details, it’s high-res)
from The 50th anniversary of William S. Burroughs’s novel ‘Naked Lunch ’* — a lot more on the site — thanks to

mianoti:

William S. Burroughs * [+] (Ubu)

The index for the “Interzone” manuscript (click on the image to see details, it’s high-res)

from The 50th anniversary of William S. Burroughs’s novel ‘Naked Lunch ’* — a lot more on the site — thanks to

View in high-resolution

Originally from [ Mia N ]

troubleatthecup:

from left to right: William S. Burroughs, Lucien Carr, and the poet Allen Ginsberg in New York City, 1953

troubleatthecup:

from left to right: William S. Burroughs, Lucien Carr, and the poet Allen Ginsberg in New York City, 1953

Originally from

“Happiness is a byproduct of function, purpose, and conflict; those who seek happiness for itself seek victory without war.”

William S. Burroughs (via little-fighter)

Originally from The fragile art of existence

thekellyaffair:

“My relationships with my cats has saved me from a deadly, pervasive ignorance”

thekellyaffair:

My relationships with my cats has saved me from a deadly, pervasive ignorance

Originally from ars memoriae

wntrmute:

“Americans have a special horror of giving up control, of letting things happen in their own way without interference. They would like to jump down into their stomachs and digest the food and shovel the shit out.”—William S. Burroughs. “Naked Lunch.”

wntrmute:

“Americans have a special horror of giving up control, of letting things happen in their own way without interference. They would like to jump down into their stomachs and digest the food and shovel the shit out.”

—William S. Burroughs. “Naked Lunch.”

Originally from W N T R M U T E

Cut-Up Poem by William S. Burroughs, Courtesy of Reality Studio

fuckyeahbeatpoets:

EVERYWHERE MARCH YOUR HEAD”

A rap of
Sound
A.

turns
Urns back O
Our lots con
the time to you

change
no mat
desires
Arrival of/ / / /

you finger on the
starts &&

These
stance of
O will go…

begin
ire..

Everywhere
march
your
head

Cut up Rimbaud’s TO A REASON (A UNE RAISON)
Words by Rimbaud, arrangement by Burroughs and Corso

Originally from Beat Poets & Poetry

saltansee:

Burroughs by Steve Altan

saltansee:

Burroughs by Steve Altan

View in high-resolution

Originally from SLANT FACTORY