ariadne
- user since
- Sun Mar 16 2003 at 20:53:54 (21.1 years ago )
- last seen
- Wed Apr 13 2022 at 17:18:25 (2 years ago )
- level / experience
- 0 (Initiate) / 0
- specialties
- cinnamon cookies, hélène cixous, nostalgia
- school/company
- h'oxford university
- Send private message to ariadne
User Bookmarks:
- (listen) (thing)
- 4.48 Psychosis
- A pragmatic critique of identity theorizing (idea)
- Angelene (thing)
- ariadne
- Bitriot
- Blanchot, Derrida, Deleuze: Confronting the Disaster
- Borderline personality disorder (thing)
- Butterfly soup
- Chaos theory
- cinderelle
- Don't touch me when I'm screaming
- etouffee
- Finally we are no one
- For girls who grow plump in the night
- Fragments of a world, and the spaces between them
- Gritchka
- Having the courage to be an absolute nobody (idea)
- Heroin
- hlör u fang axaxaxas mlö
- Holding hands in the dark
- How to become a better anorexic
- I cough up butterflies (idea)
- I hate you. Please don't leave me.
- I need something like smoking
- In the bathrooms and the bad motels
- It is difficult to wake up to the empty spots (idea)
- It's 2 in the morning and I own the world (idea)
- Jacques Derrida on the philosophy of language
- Jeffrey Dahmer (person)
- Kafka's written kisses
- mad girl's love song
- Mu (idea)
- My Self Portrait (person)
- nocodeforparanoia
- On holding hands in a 3am motel (idea)
- Poem for Leonard Cohen and other gentlemen sinners
- Prozac Nation (thing)
- Roses are the flowers of the dead
- Sad little spiral-bound notebook diaries (idea)
- Salty taste of blue things (idea)
- Sitting on the back porch, smoking cigarettes and waiting for the apocalypse
- Suicide (thing)
- That's just my broken parts coming through the surface (thing)
- The edge of the world (place)
- The empty notebook (thing)
- The naked woman raises herself on her elbow and continues her monologue in the direction of the bath (person)
- the trash of dreams and the unspoken misgivings
- The truth about angels
- There is nothing inside of you
- Thora Birch (person)
- Translucent, threatening to smash itself (idea)
- why don't poets kill each other anymore?
- you, the marionette