[hmndhr]

[swedishlandscapes]

After the thunderstorm had passed by.

[rozieramati]

[xoxotourlife-deactivated2025052]

We are dust

[sustancy]

[my-honey]

[vayhalime]

[modedamour]

the peterdo

[metamorphesque]

Grief, to me, is love turned stagnant (rotten!) — a love that, robbed of its object, has no place to go. It lingers within, unmoving, unflowing, and in its stillness, it begins to decay. This rot — the heaviness and stench of it — seeps into everything else that inhabits the same space: new loves, new experiences, new joys. All become veiled and tainted by this greedy sorrow. What I’ve come to realize is that to prevent this from happening, love must remain in motion. It must flow, even when the beloved — the person, place, or time passed long ago — is no longer there. How, then, do we keep this love flowing? One way is to allow ourselves to remember without resistance. Write about them. Create in their honor. Weave their presence into your days not as shadows, but as light that lingers. For love, when kept alive, cannot rot. It will ripple through you, through others, through rooms of space and the fabric of time, endlessly becoming.

grief is love (rotten!) /substack/

[yuyuuyuyuu-deactivated20230726]

[santanabellas]

[shisasan]

𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟶, 𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟸 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹

[ID: December 20. Suffered much in my thoughts. END ID]

[wxmatija]

[smallspacesblog]

Wrobleski House by Steve Silverman

[houseofmilan]

[cheriee0]

[bunnycocaine]

cursed to be a tumblr user forever