[dvkev-alentino]

“He cries, ‘Tell me, tell me what you feel.’ And I cannot. There is blood in my eyes, in my head. Words are drowned.”

— Anais Nin, Henry and June

[morepeachyogurt]

marlena by julie buntin

[dvnyaaa]

“Do you know the value of yourself?”

— Ibn al-Qayyim in al-Fawaa'id (p. 117)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“Me, inside myself, always waiting for something that my mind can’t define.”

— Julia de Burgos, from Song of the Simple Truth: Poems; “Moments,”

[space-pics]

Mars From Its Small Moon Deimos

[eflor]

[sulfatto-deactivated20241018]

[flowerytale]

Charlotte Brontë, from “Jane Eyre”

[flowerytale]

Jenny Hval, from Girls Against God

[girlfictions]

Alice Notley, from In The Pines

[saenzdesantamaria]

[heavensghost]

it’s quiet here

[flowerytale]

The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1920–1923

[petaltexturedskies]

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vanessa Bell written c. August 1908

[typewriter-worries]

[ I wonder if you talked about me, as you went home, or thought of me when the moon rose, ]

[metamorphesque]

― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

[weltenwellen]

May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

[weltenwellen]

Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours

[weltenwellen]

May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude