KNOW Magazine

Know Magazine is an independent online literary magazine which is devoted to artistic expression through art and writing. www.know-magazine.net


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Reblogged from itslatingirl
“I am a man who likes female company. I always have and I always will. But I like having wonderful, gay people of both sexes around. I particularly like to have youngsters about, reminding me of how life is always renewing itself. In brief, I like people. I like to enjoy the thrill of living every day, every hour of the day, for we are here only this once, and let’s feel the wind while we may.” -Errol Flynn

“I am a man who likes female company. I always have and I always will. But I like having wonderful, gay people of both sexes around. I particularly like to have youngsters about, reminding me of how life is always renewing itself. In brief, I like people. I like to enjoy the thrill of living every day, every hour of the day, for we are here only this once, and let’s feel the wind while we may.”

-Errol Flynn

(via first-in-last-out)


Reblogged from luciavictoria

(Source: luciavictoria, via prostitutesandwhores)



Reblogged from inhumanqualities

“ Stuart Pearce, the dogged, English left-back stepped up. Six years previously he had done the same in a similar situation against the Germans in the World Cup semi-final in Italy and missed. I bit my knuckles as the commentator recalled this. There was a steely look in Pearce’s eye. His lips were fixed in a grimace. You could tell he was keeping all of his emotion inside. You could see the six years of hurt in his eyes; the weight of them, the pain of that memory and the fear. The referee blew his whistle. Pearce strode towards the ball and smashed it into the bottom corner. Scored. Our living room erupted. We heard the neighbours next door and the ones across the road. The nation erupted in celebration. Pearce turned and surveyed the crowds for a moment. He must have felt the outpouring of celebration. He must have felt his own misery flooding out of him. And in the midst of the nation’s joy, sport was suddenly something deeply personal; the man alone and his redemption; bravery, heroism and joy. He ran towards the supporters throwing his fists wildly and screaming at the top of his lungs. Sport versus Writing

“

Look up the word ‘know’ in a dictionary and you’ll find this definition:

‘To perceive or understand as fact or truth; to apprehend clearly and with certainty.’

Nowadays, in the world of mass media, and round-the-clock technology which is always getting smaller and faster and making mass media more portable, more constant, more permanently attached to our, and our children’s, eyes and ears, so that we may not have a unique thought, a moment of contemplation, and thus a contrary thought, an uncontrolled idea, how much do we actually ‘know’? How much of what we think we know have we ‘perceived,’ and ‘understood’ for ourselves?

Know Magazine is an independent online literary magazine which is devoted to artistic expression through art and writing. It offers writers and artists a creative space to experiment and share their work and passion for art, freedom, travel, science, philosophy, the natural world, people, and culture. It’s a place where artists can come together, try different things, get feedback, collaborate, and inspire one another. And perhaps, through the experience, gain real, empirical knowledge of the world around us.

To find out more or to submit to KNOW Magazine email us at info@know-magazine.net.

You can also find us on Facebook, Tumblr and Twitter.

 www.know-magazine.net
“ It was March and the winter showed no signs of relenting. Our lives were mired in suffering. Failure hung above our heads like dark clouds and the threat of eternal misery loomed in dark time. We had to get out. We had to go and be gone and begin our journey. No more comfortable inertia of the soul. We knew we had to live and to live we had to break free. The Beauty in the Black

“ I was their ghost writer, capturing them in their moments of weakness, of doubt, of loneliness, of euphoric energy and happiness. Thus, I told their fables, documented their routines, and magnified their characters and personalities. I listened to the lies they told their families. I heard them say how easy life was in Europe; that Euros fell from the trees like golden apples, that they drove fast cars with blonde girls in the passenger seats. They wouldn’t admit the truth. They’d never say that Barça was more like Barsaq; that paradise was in fact Hell. Barsaq
“ Unfathomable loneliness and sadness crept through him: he saw his life down the solemn vista of a forest aisle, and he knew he would always be the sad one: caged in that little round of skull, imprisoned in that beating and most secret heart, his life must always walk down lonely passages. Lost. He understood that men were forever strangers to one another, that no one ever comes to really know anyone, that imprisoned in the dark womb of our mother, we come to life without ever having seen her face, that we are given to her arms a stranger, and that, caught in that insoluble prison of being, we escape it never, no matter what arms may clasp us, what mouth may kiss us, what heart may warm us. Never, never, never, never, never, never.” - Look Homeward, Angel The Lost Writer


“ But now when the sun goes down and the holidaymakers start to leave and the local fisherman come and cast their lines from off the pier and are silhouetted by the red sunset, I think of the down-and-out bums lost in their alcoholic stupors. I think of the landscape; the rolling hills and snow-capped mountains. I think of the dead sheep lay in a heap among the herd. I think of the father and his mad son who are alone, and I think of Helena and my self and how we’re alone too. I think of the Senegalese vendors like ghosts who haunt the night, of those fishermen and of nature that surrounds us and at whose behest we may exist, and meanwhile it remains; the Pan di Zucchero, nature, the earth; enormous, mysterious, forever. Ode to a Piece of Sugar
“ ‘Behold, disaster shall go forth from nation to nation … And at that day the slain of the Lord shall be from one end of the Earth even to the other end of the Earth …’ Coconut and Papaya Trees