starboy

im v and im 23. he:him; infj; scorpio rising, cancer new moon baby

[existential-celestial]

“…always if someone is weighed down he falls straight into the middle of God.”

— Rainer Maria Rilke, “The Letter from the Young Worker,” featured in Letters to a Young Poet

[smsomah]

From the book Cut these words into my stone: ancient Greek epitaphs (Wolfe, Michael)

[milocelium]

sketchbook entry No.5

[clawmarks]

The necklace of Princess Fiorimonde : and other stories - Mary De Morgan, Walter Crane, Joseph Swain - 1886 - via Internet Archive 

[laclefdescoeurs]

Forest Interior, 1850, Barend Cornelis Koekkoek

[saintsebastiensbf]

Rainer Maria Rilke, from Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God

[karidozo]

Amendoeira em Flor - 1890 - Vincent Van Gogh

[oldpaintings]

Woodland Landscape with a Chapel, 1850 by Barend Cornelis Koekkoek (Dutch, 1803–1862)

[metamorphesque]

Like Water for Chocolate, Days of Being Wild, Les Félins

[dream-and-delirium]

Ernest Lefébure. ‘Embroidery and Lace: Their Manufacture and History from the Remotest Antiquity to the Present Day.’ London: Grevel, 1888.

Cover art by May Morris.

[sonofcainn]

[metmuseum]

Tile. ca. 1640–60. Credit line: Fletcher Fund, 1927 https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/196240

[lifeinpoetry]

Look, we are not unspectacular things.     We’ve come this far, survived this much. What

would happen if we decided to survive more? To love harder?

What if we stood up with our synapses and flesh and said, No.       No, to the rising tides.

— Ada Limón, from “Dead Stars,” published in The Cortland Review

[antiqueanimals]

Prague School, circa 1580-1600. An exotic dog, the Mexican Xoloitzcuintli, from two angles, with an ornate collar and in an extensive landscape. Oil on canvas.

[literaturereads]

"And Cain says, “When you split me and my brother in the womb, you did not divide us evenly. He got kindness, and I got longing. He got complacence, and I got ambition. I want to kill him sometimes. I think sometimes he wants to die.”

- Nathaniel Orion, "Hevel"

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Mary Kate Teske

[petaltexturedskies]

How many snapshots I carry away, wrapped in cellophane of frost and spangled with stars: cookies for tea, dream-walks through mist, to lights, carols, hot roasted chestnuts—all this is Christmas-wrapped in my heart.

Sylvia Plath in a letter to J. Mallory Wober, wr. c. December 1955