E. Bookworm

You may accost me as Emily, it is my birth given name after all.

[bufoniform]

D—n me! I seem to have mislaid my mind elsewhere!

[danskjavlarna]

Source details and larger version.

Face paint and other vintage cosmetics.

[enki2]

[mudwerks]

(via Pappy’s Golden Age Comics Blogzine: Number 2010: She changed her life for a man!)

wear bear grease…

[mournfulroses]

Natalie Diaz, from a poem titled "September 2001," featured in The World Keeps Ending And The World Goes On

[danskjavlarna]

Source details and larger version.

Lots of weird stuff in my collection of vintage Christmas imagery.

[mournfulroses]

J. M. Grosvalet, from her book titled "Sugar Spells," originally published in 2025

[weantuniverse]

[weantuniverse]

[ashstfu]

perpetually longing for more in life but trapped by the fear of change

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

When we were children, my sister had private music lessons at her violin teacher’s house. I only visited there once, but I still remember that afternoon. The teacher had an artificial pond in her yard, a large beautiful thing with lily pads and plant life. And in the pond, there were goldfish. I had never seen such enormous goldfish. 

I spent several minutes just staring at them (and trying to convince them to bite my fingers.) When my sister’s violin lesson ended, her teacher came out to the yard and explained that these goldfish were the same small creatures that were often unfortunately sold in plastic bags at state fairs. They were only about two inches long apiece, when she bought them and put them in the new, empty pond. In essence, they were like every goldfish I had seen before, but they had been given a much larger, much richer environment in which to flourish. As a result, they had grown into some of the most remarkable, vibrant creatures my twelve-year-old self had ever met with. All because of a pond. 

Funny what lessons children remember. My sister doesn’t play the violin anymore, but that was the first time I caught a glimpse of the overwhelming extent to which it matters, the way the world treats us.

[petaltexturedskies]

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals

[toiich]

Sound of the Mountain (1954), dir. Mikio Naruse

[petaltexturedskies]

Rainer Maria Rilke, in a letter to Sidonie Nádherná, dated 1 August 1913

[bufoniform]

I will continue to move forward, begrudgingly.

[utopians]

stepped on a plum (overripe plum) (barefoot) it was on the driveway got out of the car and accidentally (didn't know it was there) stepped on the plum (warm) (on the ground) (it had fallen from the tree) barefoot (no shoes) wearing long pants (too long) (need to hem them) plum viscera got on them (the pants) unexpected plum on the driveway (hot plum) (97 degrees out) already super hungover (throwing up all morning) (should not have been driving at all) and I stepped out of the car (black car) (97 degrees out) and onto the plum (unexpected) (didn't know the plum was there) and it burst (plum nightmare on my only good pair of sweatpants) still we find ways to keep ourselves going from day to day

[utopians]

guess what post just got read aloud in poetry club tonite by an unknowing club member as I watched on in terror

[greatestlittlegiant]

always thinking of that “i couldn’t stop wasting time” quote

[greatestlittlegiant]

song of the summer!!

[plaguedocboi]

I hate the “open floor plan” that everyone is obsessed with in houses now. I want nooks and crannies and bizarre floor plans. I don’t need to be able to see what someone is doing on the other side of the house. I want places to hide and lurk and dwell in the shadows. I am the beast who awaits in the labyrinth