the road

[dynaemene]

routine idea

breakfast coffee economist

read for an hour or two

go outside for the day

tea in the afternoon, fun reading

exercise

[dynaemene]

i need a really nice masculine handbag and really nice loafers

[dynaemene]

it's like

crisp white cotton shirt with denim and expensive loafers

everything white/grey/brown/black/denim/beige/tan

[dynaemene]

paris style

shaggy white bob

good quality denim shorts with good quality tops

check dress or white zara dress and loafers

simple, high quality and comfortable

[dynaemene]

what do I actually want from my life?

live in Paris with two dogs

speak French

play the piano

have an easy life

do creative things

have money

buy archive pieces

[dynaemene]

routine routine routine routine routine

[dynaemene]

7700

3850 per week

550 per day

eat 1700 per days for 12 weeks

you will lose six kilos

29 may - aug 212

[dynaemene]

possibly the worst version of me

world devolved to the safety of blankets heaped

wet eyelashes

feeling drowned

i feel like a bus belted me across the shoulders

and i am not wherever you are

in Well

i can fucking hate you for that forever

don't see me here

but please find me

[dynaemene]

goals 2023

short bleached hair and full fringe

lose 7 kgs and wear mini dresses with heels

[ryebreadgf]

Dorianne Laux, from “On the Back Porch”

[tristealven]

“Are you burning in this point? Am I centred in your beauty and is it cold and are we holding?”

— Angela Carr, from ropewalk  (via sagmoonn)

[astrophagy]

“I worshipped the myth I made of you, but I’m off my knees / now.”

— Traci Brimhall, from “Dear Eros,” Come the Slumberless To the Land of Nod (via lifeinpoetry)

[tristealven]

“I love with my throat exposed”

— Natalie Sharp, from “[Molar Concentration],” published in Puerto del Sol (via lifeinpoetry)

[typewriter-worries]

Red, White & Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston

[theoptia]

Simone de Beauvoir, from Diary of a Philosophy Student: Volume 1, 1926-1927; May 21st, 1927

Text ID: I have no other god but myself.

[bebemoon]

“I’m getting lovelier by the hour. I glow like a corpse in the dark.”

— Nina Cassian, tr. by William Jay Smith, from “Since You Walked Out On Me,” (via abluemoment)

[peoplehood-deactivated20211003]

from Yasica, Puerto Plata by JP Infante

[queerangelic]

Image transcription:

When I lived in the mountains, I thought the same color meant the same taste. Tangerines oranges and the sun. Citrus.

When I saw my great-grandmother peel a tangerine with her bare hands while men used knives for oranges, she became God. I imagined what she could do with the sun.

End transcription.