Er(i)nest Hemingway

Erin. 20. Virgo. She/her. Queer. Lover of all things pretty.

[wnq-typography]

[adrasteiax]

I am queen of all my sins forgotten. Am I still lost? Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself

Anne Sexton, from You, Doctor Martin in “The Complete Poems Of Anne Sexton”

[macrolit]

Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?

Clarice Lispector

[terranaut]

[wordsnquotes]

When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it’s safe inside your mouth.

Jodi Picoult, Handle With Care

[fly-underground]

One day, a child will talk to her grandmother in another language and when a stranger overhears them on the street, he’ll go home and describe the sounds, like the beating of a drum, to his partner, who had studied linguistic derivatives years ago. Now, they grow plants on the roof, which feed the whole building. A man on the 12th floor is famous for his gumbo and he gives the recipe out to anyone, but especially the young people who want to be healthy and strong. Right outside the double doors is a woman who waits for the last express bus into the city. She dresses like a firecracker. People on the block move out of the way when she passes. Sometimes she forgets her cell phone and nothing happens. She works the front desk at the public hospital and almost every patient checked in checks out. When they die, their families grieve in peace and no one ever asks about the money. In this world, with all its problems that can’t be solved with can-do spirit and positivity, there is at least no monopoly, no broken roads, no hate crime sprayed across the bathroom wall. In this world, when a child’s grandmother dies, no one curses the procession, no one bombs the mosque. In this world, a bilingual child grows up knowing how to say more than Hello, I love you, and I’m sorry. She can also say I’m proud.

Yena Sharma Purmasir, “Even in Utopia, Even Here”

[lifeinpoetry]

Imagine a tender worth being Holy for

— Julian Randall, from “LAMENTATION (Black Jesus Remix),” published in The Shallow Ends

[nemophilies-deactivated20190428]

We are never the same after someone has first loved us. The self the other sees hangs in the mirror at least part time. The innocence lost is living for myself, ignorant as a wild hawthorn how to allure, flatter, please and in what light arrange the hair and limbs like a bouquet of white flowers, dark twigs snipped off the tree. Alone I am clear as clean ice. I sleep short hours, stop cooking sauces, and every day like a desert monk I contemplate death in each apple core and woodash.

Marge Piercy, from “May Apple,” in The Moon is Always Female

[schuylerpeck]

Yes, this week, work was a bitch and my student loan payment is due on the 25th. Yes, it’s scheduled to rain on Tuesday and my gas tank is running low. But it doesn’t matter. The sun is making its grand appearance and my body is here to greet it. Spring is coming. There is a carpet of green grass for me to spread out on and peach iced tea to sip. I’ll make it through this week, and the next one after that. I am practicing brightness; seeing the world with kinder eyes and caring for my little pains. And it’s working. The dog greets me every morning with kisses. I know all the love I have to give will be returned. Everything is so abundantly good.

– Schuyler Peck, Little Pains (21/30: Little Hurts)

[emmisnotshortforemma]

You can read more diary entries like this one on my patreon.  [Image description:  4-panel comic. Panel 1: Maybe tomorrow will be better. *drawing of a flower with a petal falling off* Panel 2: Or maybe I’ll still be tired. *drawing of weeds* Panel 3: Either way, I’ll do my best. *drawing of leaves* Panel 4: And eventually things will be okay. *drawing of a flower*]

[lovelysuggestions]

we are a generation of sleepy lovers, of big-hearted rebels, of tired fighters. we are a generation worn out, but unwilling to back down.

[perfectweddingdresses-blog1]

Otilia Brailoiu • Cruise 2018

[daifei]

remember

[quotemadness]

Aren’t we all waiting to be read by someone, praying that they’ll tell us that we make sense?

Rudy Francisco

[gokyuzlumadam-deactivated201806]

[goodreadss]

She was laughing even as we kissed and kissed again. There is no better taste than this: someone else’s laughter in your mouth.

Maggie Stiefvater

[latenightcornerstore]

My heart likes to start fights with the inside of my ribs where everyone loses. For weeks, my lungs have been purple punching bags. My stomach is being polished into a wood panel floor. I’m selling tickets to my own heartbreak. Blood and broken noses are what put bodies in the seats. These are real bar brawls, ladies and gentlemen. Nothing is staged, here. Sure, there have been a few– accidents. The kind of hits you don’t get back up from. But that’s the price of business, isn’t it? And don’t you want a show?

THE PRICE IS GOING UP by Ashe Vernon