nothin/g/old

'i am not looking for roses/i want to break like a fever/i want to break like the berlin wall/I want to break like the clouds' 23, white, cis-female, hetero-flexible, survivor, grad student, writer, activist, cat snuggler, intersectional feminist, INFP.

[thegirlsoul-blog]

[jaspertilley]

[lamignonette]

[shmuelaa]

[thedesigndome]

[culturenlifestyle]

A Single Book Can Alter The Strongest Of Foundations

Installation artist Jorge Mendez Blake creates a powerful brick sculpture titled “The Castle”. The intimidating wall, formidable and erect, loses its symmetry and forms a rift at the point where a book it inserted at its root. Keep reading

via the design dome

[aqqindex]

Aires Mateus

[avtavr]

Robert Montgomery, One of Those Rooms, 2012.

[wxsts-deactivated20170309]

[roootsinmydreamland]

The Birth of Venus // Anastasia Beverly Hills Modern Renaissance Palette

[friez-over-guyz-deactivated2018]

I want this so bad

[yoncehaunted]

…and countless others. 

[mellamesarajane-deactivated2024]

[missdontcare-x]

[altcomics]

Audrey Wollen

[venusian--eye-deactivated201606]

technically we’re ALL, always LARPing, because the Self is only a construct,

[hipster-and-thoughts]

[peachpulpeuse]

I tried to argue that Ophelia resonated because Shakespeare had made an extraordinary discovery in writing her, though I had trouble articulating the nature of that discovery. I didn’t want to admit that it could be something as simple as recognizing that emotionally unstable teenage girls are human beings. … When Ophelia appears onstage in Act IV, scene V, singing little songs and handing out imaginary flowers, she temporarily upsets the entire power dynamic of the Elsinore court. When I picture that scene, I always imagine Gertrude, Claudius, Laertes, and Horatio sharing a stunned look, all of them thinking the same thing: “We fucked up. We fucked up bad.” It might be the only moment of group self-awareness in the whole play. Not even the grossest old Victorian dinosaur of a critic tries to pretend that Ophelia is making a big deal out of nothing. Her madness and death is plainly the direct result of the alternating tyranny and neglect of the men in her life. She’s proof that adolescent girls don’t just go out of their minds for the fun of it. They’re driven there by people in their lives who should have known better.

B.N. Harrison, from “The Unified Theory of Ophelia” (via shakespeareismyjam)

[bostonpoetryslam]

Can beauty save us? Yesterday I looked at the river and a sliver of moon and knew the answer; today I fell asleep in a spot of sun behind a Vermont barn, woke to darkness, a thin whistle of wind and the answer changed.

Maggie Nelson, “Thanksgiving,” published on Machine Project (via bostonpoetryslam)