[litafficionado]

-Frank O'Hara

[druhst]

“These are now the best years of my life, for I have hope. I have heaps of friendly thoughts in my head, and an immense quantity of hope, of illusions. When these things leave me, I prefer to die, and until then I will live with all my heart this glorious life, which is a strange mixture of monotonous tasks and delicious emotions, sprinkled now and then with little incidents out of the ordinary, and the realization of some sweet, tender daydream.”

— The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1920–1923

[musicbycarley]

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Ultraviolence | Lana Del Rey

[aozoramusume]

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[druhst]

“...unfaithful to my inner promises. Like a complete outsider, a casual observer of whom I thought I was, I’ve always enjoyed watching my daydreams go down in defeat. I was never convinced of what I believed in. I filled my hands with sand, called it gold, and opened them up to let it slide through.”

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

[tiqqungaming]

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[fenec]

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Siboney - Connie Francis

[illustration-alcove]

Illustrations for Alexander Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin by Lidia Timoshenko.

[weltenwellen]

“(…) you’re not without melancholy, and you feel emptiness where there could be friendship and high and serious affections, and you feel a terrible discouragement gnawing at your psychic energy itself, and fate seems able to put a barrier against the instincts for affection,”

— Vincent van Gogh, Ever Yours: The Essential Letters

[koreedas-blog]

hands in Robert Bresson films

[thotfuss]

Litany In Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out (Richard Siken) // Soft In The Middle (Shelby Eileen) // The Torn-Up Road (Richard Siken) // Bunches of a Nest (Diane Mehta) //  IT (Stephen King) // Staking a Claim (Erika Meitner) // Rilke’s Book of Hours (Rainer Maria Rilke)

[candypriceless]

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Fleetwood Mac | ‘Dreams' 

[zonecassette]

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[ophiraa]

“I want to be cured Of a craving for something I cannot find And of the shame of never finding it.”

— T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party

[apocryphics]

I can’t stop thinking about when Susan Sontag said “I don’t feel guilt at being unsociable, though I may sometimes regret it because my loneliness is painful. But when I move into the world, it feels like a moral fall — like seeking love in a whorehouse.”

[biruzayistasyonukadargaripveuza]

Jean Moral, Yalnızlık, 1926

[thunderstruck9]

Anna Bjerger (Swedish, b. 1973), Lager, 2010. Oil on aluminium, 60 x 50 cm.