[becherdireinen]

trust that everything will fall into place without you forcing it there.

[drenchedinstarlight]

all of my screams combined couldn’t hold a candle to the ancient agony of my mother’s single sigh.

[drenchedinstarlight]

The Adventures of the Wishing Chair - Enid Blyton

dw anon i live

[drenchedinstarlight]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ♡ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ♡ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:*

[tunisian]

i wish my longing didnt consume me as much as it does

[tunisian]

Mahmoud Darwish, from The Butterfly's Burden; "Maybe, Because Winter Is Late" (tr. from the Arabic by Fady Joudah) - via @luthienne

oh…

[drenchedinstarlight]

"to let go of its longing is to receive it." IS THE TRUEST thing to have ever been said. but how tf do i let go of the only thing ive ever held on to?????????

[drenchedinstarlight]

um so how many of y'all are here for the manic girl's diary posts? maybe then i'll stop posting privately 🧍🏻‍♀️

[blackcvrrant-deactivated2023060]

[ids in alt] carl sagan // the old astronomer to his pupil by sarah williams // welcome to night vale by joseph fink and jeffrey cranor // @/1Bae__ on twitter // neil gaiman // welcome to night vale by joseph fink and jeffrey cranor // my body's made of crushed little stars by mitski // unfortunately, me // tumblr user @/diver-up

[drenchedinstarlight]

and we sat there on the little veranda of our little room facing the gardens, in the rain. Our hands sticky and sweet with fruit pulp. We stretched our hands out to wash them in the rain, and with the residual pulp we washed away all the little pains of childhood.

[drenchedinstarlight]

maybe that is why I remember my childhood in just kind glimpses. The taste of fresh fruit, loud laughs, whispered giggles and scrunched up faces. And of course, the running.

We ran till it was all a blur, only our shrieks and laughs holding us down. I wonder, if we ran in silence would we have ascended the skies.

No, we were already higher than all the skies of worlds, all of us together.

[drenchedinstarlight]

and we sat there on the little verandah of our little room facing the gardens, in the rain. Our hands sticky and sweet with fruit pulp. We stretched our hands out to wash them in the rain, and with the residual pulp we washed away all the little pains of childhood.

[ashstfu]

kafka had his diaries, didion had her notebooks, plath wrote in journals, and i have my tumblr blog

[devoteddaydreamer]

[the-cinder-fields]

Photographer, Masao Yamamoto, b.1957

[drenchedinstarlight]

there is no time there is no space there is just you and i, and the stars reflected from your eyes, and the cosmos, a creation of your dreams.

we are everything, we are nothing.

yet i am grateful to see our light in the stars,

our feelings in the macrocosm,

alongside you.

we are but a moment. and you made it a lovely one.

thank you, my love, my life.

[drenchedinstarlight]

that is why we look up to the sky and dream. there are infinite dreams in us. but as human beings confined to flesh and bones and mortal theories, we bind ourselves to just one, and those who are lucky love that dream to depths, which is enough to fill the void for human love is infinite in itself.

still, you can look up to the sky and see the stars, they represent the countless realities, your dreams being lived in every one of them. look up to the starts and dream for yourself in another reality.

[drenchedinstarlight]

nothing consumes me whole. maybe that is the issue. i fall in love with little somethings all the time. my heart is in thousands of pieces and each piece craves another hundred things. but what is my heart with all the pieces together, what does my heart love as a whole? my whole heart does not beat. it does not know what to beat for.

it’s obvious in the constant mayhem of the mind and silence of the heart. my heart is whole now and it does not know what to love. the lack of purpose apparent in every way, wild oscillation of every atom in my body and yet, i’m still.

[drenchedinstarlight]

is to be a mother, to be alone?

i think so, is it to drown yourself in a million tasks so you have no time to tend to the wounds which bleed and burn me. maybe that is the cause of my young fury, it doesn’t help that i know where to cut where the wound already lies deep. it certainly doesn’t help now knowing you bled out for me. the wounds didn’t heal. you bled and burned whole. blinded by the sprinkles of your blood that burnt so deep i did not see you burning alive always, i am sorry.

and yet you hold me, and now we’re both bloody.

the fire is warm. the fire is violent. we burn a little but it also burns that which cut you so deep. it burns the sinner alive. the fire is warm. the fire is comfortable. the fire has consumed everything against you. the fire cackles, i hear you laugh. we are warm, we are safe. your fire cleans your wounds. i kiss them close. you cry tears you thought you lost. your tears wash the blood away. you are holy. you are fire. you are sacrifice. you are protection. you are love. you are redemption.

the fire has cleared our way, our home washed with your sacred tears. our lives reborn. maybe we will live together the life you lost. i will bring you fresh flowers for you hair and drown in your laughter. i am healed. i am free.

[drenchedinstarlight]

letting the drafts run wild because it’s almost 3am and i have nothing to lose