background score 22 by ts

[shakespearesdaughters]

it’s almost that time of year again

[petaltexturedskies]

Isn't it good to know winter is coming—and that life will be a little more quiet—and you will be home writing and eating well and we will be spending pleasant nights wrapped round one another—and you are home now, rested and eating well because you should not become too sad—and I feel better when I know you are well.

Jack Kerouac, from Subterranean

[fairydrowning]

Grief is the only proof that I love and I love well. Love and grief are actually intertwined with each other and as "Akif Kichloo" once wrote, "the opposite of grief is not laughter or happiness or joy. It is love. It is love. It is love."

[fairydrowning]

"Grief is love's souvenir. It's our proof that we once loved. Grief is the receipt we wave in the air that says to the world: Look! Love was once mine. I love well. Here is my proof that I paid the price."

– Glennon Doyle Melton, Love Warrior

[manicherry-deactivated20240511]

― Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

[guulabii]

written by kaveh akbar

[feral-ballad]

Kaveh Akbar, from Calling A Wolf A Wolf: Poems; “Heritage”

[thegirlwhocriessushi]

when sally rooney wrote “and it was easier and safer to stay in a bad situation than to take responsibility for getting out. Maybe, maybe. I don’t know. I tell myself that I want to live a happy life, and that the circumstances for happiness just haven’t arisen. But what if that’s not true? What if I’m the one who can’t let myself be happy? Because I’m scared, or I prefer to wallow in self-pity, or I don’t believe I deserve good things, or some other reason. Whenever something good happens to me I always find myself thinking: I wonder how long it will be until this turns out badly. And I almost want the worst to happen sooner, sooner rather than later, and if possible straight away, so at least I don’t have to feel anxious about it anymore.” in beautiful world where are you, i felt that

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Gentle Spirit

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

[poetryofmuses]

"There's a bond between June and July, a bond like none other."

[flowerytale]

Wendy Cope, "From June to December: Summer Villanelle"

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Sanna Wani, “Who is the Sun, Asking for Sleep?”, My Grief, the Sun // Brenna Twohy, A Coworker Asks Me If I Am Sad, Still

[wandererinthestacks]

“You became like coffee, in the deliciousness, and the bitterness, and the addiction.”

Mahmoud Darwish

Instagram: @solitudeismyeuphoria

[beacheswhereartthou]

literally dressed in all black in the middle of summer and listening to sweater weather, wow i really miss and crave winters

[flowerytale]

Virginia Woolf, from The Waves

[flowerytale]

Margaret Atwood, from The Blind Assassin

[xeptum]

[a-ltrove]

“I want to fight your realism with all the magic forces of poetry.”

— Anaïs Nin