😲

autumn | 20

[lesspixelsplease]

credit: @waneella

[meruz]

hometown kids

[likefireatsea]

page from LIKE AN OWL OF THE WASTE PLACES #zine

[supppe]

[wovi]

when fleabag said, “with all the love i have for her. i don’t know where to put it now.” and when anne carson wrote, “you remember too much, / my mother said to me recently. / why hold onto all that? and i said, / where can i put it down?” and when mitski sang, “i don’t know what to do without you / i don’t know where to put my hands” and when donnie smith in magnolia (1999) cried, “i really do have love to give! i just don’t know where to put it!” and when emily dickinson once wrote, “we outgrow love, like other things / and put it in the drawer —”

[symphonyinblue1978]

typed my symptoms into webmd and it turns out i just need to stand in a river

[thehauntedmansion2003]

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

[demiiwhiffin]

from girl of the earth by katy maxwell 

[ophanic]

r + e

[thereisasong]

Visit Original Link

[itchycoil]

I’m gonna kill myself to this song

[praying]

by Hannah Sweet

[lovedbyapollon]

Visit Original Link

Bloodbuzz Ohio, by The National

Lay my head on the hood of your car I take it too far

[anajudraws]

i haven’t watched the goldfinch yet but …take some young boris:

[bliny]

interiors in Genova, February 2018

[tank-girll-deactivated20191211]

[winterswake]

I was still babbling when Boris said: “Potter.” Before I could answer him he put both hands on my face and kissed me on the mouth. And while I stood blinking — it was over almost before I knew what had happened <…> We stood looking at each other — me breathing hard, completely stunned. “Good luck,” said Boris. “I won’t forget you.”  Later — in the cab, and afterward — I would replay that moment, and marvel that I’d waved and walked away quite so casually. Why hadn’t I grabbed his arm and begged him one last time to get in the car, come on, fuck it Boris, just like skipping school, we’ll be eating breakfast over cornfields when the sun comes up? I knew him well enough to know that if you asked him the right way, at the right moment, he would do almost anything; and in the very act of turning away I knew he would have run after me and hopped in the car laughing if I’d asked one last time. But I didn’t. And, in truth, it was maybe better that I didn’t — I say that now, though it was something I regretted bitterly for a while. More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar babbling-and-wanting-to-talk state I’d stopped myself from blurting the thing on the edge of my tongue, the thing I’d never said, even though it was something we both knew well enough without me saying it out loud to him in the street — which was, of course,

                                                                      I LOVE YOU. 

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt // The Goldfinch (2019) dir. John Crowley