Sultana argues that men are naturally stronger. Sara counters this with the "lion" analogy: a lion is stronger than a man, but brainpower allows humanity to dominate.
-Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain, "Sultana's Dream"
Today's Document
RMH
Keni

Andulka
One Nice Bug Per Day
tumblr dot com
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
NASA
Sade Olutola

#extradirty

izzy's playlists!
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Peter Solarz
styofa doing anything
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Cosimo Galluzzi

if i look back, i am lost

roma★
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@deeviy
Sultana argues that men are naturally stronger. Sara counters this with the "lion" analogy: a lion is stronger than a man, but brainpower allows humanity to dominate.
-Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain, "Sultana's Dream"
"I would break myself a thousand times just to be loved by you"
someone replied, "what's the point of breaking yourself to be loved when they don't love you as a whole'
caitvi | 𝜗ৎ | "beauty" because the love she feels is beautiful, but "black" because it's dark and melancholic. She changed and did everything to their liking, but it seems like it's not enough to take them out of the pit.
Posted on my tiktok edit account @napolitancherrysundae
somebody's son doing something to you when?
may the universe forbid such an atrocity against an angel like me
someone’s gorgeous daughter got me smiling at nothing
chat are these early signs of getting back in my lover girl era
someone’s adorable daughter has inadvertently restored my ability to write the rust in my notes app is finally coming loose
someone's beautiful daughter is healing me
major setback for my tortured poet's community
Hands hold and let go. Hands touch and let go. Hands are and are not— mine or someone else's?
Hands roam and wish for, hands will to be kissed on. Hands' grasp gets tighter— mine or someone else's?
Red visions of hands on hands, grazing, grasping, grounding— those hands aren't mine.
Your lips on hers, blues and blurs— those lips aren't on me.
Mouth, tongue, skin, flesh— you with someone else. Didn't you think I would mind?
I'm blurred in these visions. I'm gone, I'm gone. I'm gonna need new lenses. I'm a crimson mosaic of visions of you and her.
You and I are blurry in my head. I can't tell if I need an eraser or I need you closer to clear the blur. I need you both closer and farther.
I keep seeing you where you aren’t anymore, and when I try to see you with me, our outlines slip in and out like light through an unsteady prism.
Every memory of our touch I can recall is spilling into the version of you that was with her. I want to remember the version of you that's with me, but I can only feel the other one. It's gnawing in my chest. This ache spills and fills in me what I cannot hold. My God, I wish it hurt less. It's feeding on my spine. I can't do anything but cry. Every pulse feels like a bruise in my body.
Everything has split, just like my mind. There are versions of visions I can't control. There are questions and confusion I can't name anymore.
—Deeviy, "Wish upon every atom of the universe"
I cannot forget the moments that hurt me, but I can, so very easily, forget the things that made me happy Why does pain weigh more than love and yet, how does love have the power to overcome pain?
—Deeviy
The monstrosity of my shame is collapsing in my chest filling up my lungs with dust of the past and I'm choking on my failures There's only regret in the debris and I'm breaking underneath the expectations, stipulations, plans all going down to rubbish I do make it a point to tell myself to practice gratitude but gratitude requires me find something good and finding something good requires honesty my god, in all honesty, I am no good
—Deeviy
Oh, to have love that feels like like butterflies on a Sunday morning like a cozy blanket on a winter afternoon like your favourite music on a rainy evening like moon on a dark night
—Deeviy
I want my lover to like a fountain of emotions not a bottle of them
—Deeviy
There's a giant bird caught in my throat scratching, fluttering to let go to let it breathe, scream, release It's a dangerous, dangerous bird whispering all things that should be left unsaid these things...they reach both my ears then burrow in my head If I set it free, then what's left of me? If I set it free, will I be left? Will I be left? Will I be empty? If I let this bird go, then what's left of me? There's a giant bird beating in my chest hungry for a decay of love All it likes is to eat, feed, destroy It's a vicious, vicious bird screeching all things that shouldn't be heard I cannot let these things reach anyone's ear but what If I set it free, then what's left of me? If I set it free, will I be left? Will I be left? Will I be empty? If I let this bird go, then what's left of me? Feeding on feeling of hands of other on my lover Reaching and searching for death of dreamer in the summer, of every good thing that is about to flow like a river The vulture keeps aching for decay of love, death of lover If I set this bird free, will I be left? Will I be loved?
—Deeviy
Art is a reminder of the memory of a person you connected it with, of a moment you wanted to freeze in time. But when that memory starts hurting you, you need to detach that person and that memory from the art, and set it free—for both yourself and the art.
—Deeviy
Gods and mortals are alike if you notice All a god wants is to be remembered A mortal will say 'Remember I was here' All a god wants is to be believed in A mortal will say 'I am. I am. I am.' The only difference is power and mortallity
—Deeviy
chat I'm more terrified of the people I'll meet in hell than hell itself
The vulnerability of letting people see your unfinished craft, letting people witness you getting good at it from scratch, see your imperfections while you are slowly getting better at it, see you pre-performance, see your raw...the intimacy