↬ To Die For (1995) | Dir.: Gus Van Sant
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↬ To Die For (1995) | Dir.: Gus Van Sant
Wikipedia / Image from pinterest / Machiavelli / George Santayana / Thucydides / Image from pinterest / Abba - Waterloo / J. M. Barrie - Peter Pan / Fibonacci spiral / Catherynne M. Valente
I WILL BE THE KNIFE THIS TIME.
prayer for the newly damned, ocean vuong / unknown / mercy, yves olade / cut, caitlyn siehl
less of a poem, more of a reminder. ( ఌ )
A PEEK INSIDE (APOCALYPSE EDITION) . . .
[ * ] writing prompt ) : send an item from the list below to take a closer look inside this characters life / below you will find a series of various prompts offering a look inside a characters life in an apocalyptic setting. these are meant to invoke character development & can also be altered as seen fit to better suit the character in question. bonus if you explain why it’s there!
backpack contents.
pockets or jacket lining.
weapon of choice.
makeshift first aid kit.
keepsake they can't bring themselves to throw away.
something they should've gotten rid of by now.
last thing they scavenged.
rations / food stash.
water source or container.
last page of their journal / personal notes.
what's hidden under their bedroll.
last thing they fixed or patched.
thing they've stolen / traded / killed for.
something they've taken from a corpse.
map / compass / landmark reference.
their shelter's "safe" corner.
the thing they clean the most.
supersition / charm / ritual object carried for luck or penance.
the one luxury item they still indulge in.
something they have to remember someone else by.
last recorded radio frequency / message.
what would be in their pockets if they died right now.
item they'd give to someone they love.
the object they'd risk everything for to retrieve if lost.
what they hope to be buried with.
first thing they reach for when they wake.
last thing they touch before sleeping.
their most-patched piece of clothing.
the oldest item they still own.
last item built with their hands.
𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝙿𝚘𝚎, 𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚗 (𝟷𝟾𝟹𝟻)
L. V., excerpts from the afterword: after Sylvia's "I am, I am, I am."
Dreams That Money Can Buy (Hans Richter, 1947)
"you don't know what it's like having this thing inside me. always scratching. that's an awful word, but that's what it feels like. an animal scratching to get out."
Penny Dreadful (2014-2016)
Midorimushi (Mari Terashima, 1991)
May Sarton, from Recovering: A Journal
Marina Tsvetaeva, tr. by Elaine Feinstein from, “Poem of the End.” [ID in alt text]
the lamb.
dialogue prompts from the lamb by lucy rose.
we are what we eat.
a big meal always makes me tired.
the trees guard us from the outside world.
all strays love stories.
men are stupid when they feel powerful. they become complacent.
we're woven from different cloth.
i want to know you inside out.
you always smile at children and old people.
you're more complicated than i first imagined.
most adults are up to no good. i don't trust a single one.
i like that you're weird.
i want a love like fire, that leaves the world around me charred.
the stories are just that: stories.
has anyone told you that you have a beautiful smile?
i'm right where you left me.
i've never understood why mamas are expected to be perfect.
you're different from the others.
you can stay as long as you need.
the things that happen to us change us, little one.
we can't save each other. not really.
what's the special ingredient?
this is where i belong. with you.
it's okay if you can't find the words.
please. let me keep you.
you can't ever curb someone's true nature.
i think ____ misses you.
i'm only looking after you. i hope you know that.
adults like to make things so simple and boring, don't they?
it's okay to tell someone.
you have to be braver than me.
tell someone, if something is wrong. promise.
now that i've found you, i'm never going to leave.
you make me feel so full i could be sick.
you just have to apply pressure in the right place.
you can't miss someone you didn't truly know.
you loved the idea of me, before you peeled back all the layers.
i really thought i'd met my person.
no one ever really changes.
do you think the devil has horns? the devil looks as ordinary as you and me.
kids aren't supposed to be older or wiser than their parents.
keep yourself on the straight and narrow. you'll be okay if you do that.
i feel quite lonely.
i want to be friends with you. friends that share their secrets, and talk about boys.
it is such a lie that we have to love our own blood.
i feel we've known each other longer than our hearts have beaten.
adults fear what they can't understand.
the years feel longer when you're not loved the way you want to be.
i'm not just a mother. i'm a whole person.
i'm just trying to love you. protect you.
you can show me the blackest part of your heart. i will not flinch.
the scenery looks different, but the people are all the same.
nothing mattered until i met _____.
take those feelings and hide them. push them down. keep them in the dark.
boys and men always lie about the silliest things.
sometimes i think about you in ways i'm not supposed to.
maybe one day we'll live together, and we can hold hands all day. as much as we please.
i'd tell you if something was wrong. i promise.
is it something i can help with?
if i went missing, would you notice i was gone?
someone has to swallow their pride and make things okay.
can you do something good by doing something bad?
what's this bad thing you're so worried about?
you don't keep your heartbreak locked away, do you?
i'm not lying. cross my heart.
when you love someone, you promise to love all of them. even the ugly bits.
i hope you give yourself a paper cut.
can i draw you?
are you alone, too? like me?
to me, you are a church.
maybe i'm already like you.
i want to share everything with you.
you've not lived yet. not really.
i'm not bored of you. i'm sick of you.
i could have been so much more than this.
i don't want to be a mother.
i'm never going to tell you i'm sorry.
i dream of hurting you, and i like the way it feels.
do you think i'm ugly?
we all have a bit of dark inside. and light, too.
i thought families were supposed to keep each other safe.
it'll be over quick. i promise.
i've spent thousands of days hiding, changing myself.
this is what love is supposed to feel like.
i want to remember you forever.
don't look back. not once.
“Les Sylphides is a short, non-narrative ballet blanc. The ballet, described as a "romantic reverie", is frequently cited as the first ballet to be simply about mood and dance. Les Sylphides has no plot but instead consists of several white-clad sylphs dancing in the moonlight with the "poet" or "young man" dressed in white tights and a black tunic.”
May Sarton, from Recovering: A Journal