Stranger Things
One Nice Bug Per Day
oozey mess
ojovivo
Love Begins
Claire Keane
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h
Not today Justin
noise dept.
we're not kids anymore.
ellievsbear
Game of Thrones Daily
The Bowery Presents
Show & Tell
★
taylor price
cherry valley forever
No title available
shark vs the universe
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Kenya
seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
@easternglow
even though I say I won’t ever fall deeply in love with you, feeling your hand let go of mine feels like a lost cause of survival
quando tu me empurras pra eu balançar na rede, é o meu tempo que para
I don’t want you to fall into the abyss I’m so madly holding on not to
“And so he set down and though by himself:
- What if there is nothing more than sitting around places and wondering about people’s lives, only to realize I know nothing of my own?
It was better to try and figure out how people acted and lived and related instead of trying to figure it all out about himself. So he did it. Days and days gone by and he’d still do it, without the concern of learning how to live his own life.
He never really had the guts to tell people how he felt because he never really believed in himself about these feelings. They were just illusions of things he wished he felt and so he’d never worry about getting to know these people. It was more comfortable to wait for something to happen - although it would never really happen, and he knew it.
Fear ruled him and all his thoughts.”
we can never help it
Daring is what makes choices seem like
“The truth is, I pretend to be a cynic, but I am really a dreamer who is terrified of wanting something she may never get.”
— Joanna Hoffman (via wordsnquotes)
I’ve seen all the best minds of the times we thought all we had left were the streets recover from the sickness of thinking they’ve been forgotten I’ve seen them all accept love and forgiveness and also forgive and forget, and get on with their responsibilities and lives I’m worried I might be the last one to recover, and the last one to be able to get on with the things I wanna do and te person I wanna be Because I don’t really know the reason why I can’t have the meaningful wake up calls all my mates have already discovered (or would that be ‘accepted’?) I don’t know if it’s my selfless spirit that struggles to tell that existence by itself has got no meaning, and all the others seem to just ignore that fact, or if I have forgotten (as a way of survival) the traumas which led me to believe existence is mere illusion. I know that building a character and gathering in the relationship with people is what gives meaning, but wouldn’t that also be an illusion?
“Mudei. Mudei muito. Às vezes sinto a minha falta. Mas outras vezes acho que foi um alívio.”
— Caio Fernando Abreu.
Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God
LYGIA CLARK & HÉLÈNE CIXOUS
El amor del lobo.
"Para nosotros, comer y ser comidos pertenece al terrible secreto del amor. Sólo queremos a la persona que podemos devorar. A la persona que amamos sólo soñamos en comérnosla. Es una historia bellísima, la del propio tormento. Porque amar es querer y poder comer y detenerse en el límite. En el mínimo latido entre el brinco y el acecho brota el miedo. El brinco estaba ya en los aires. El corazón se detiene. El corazón arranca de nuevo. Todo en el amor está vuelto hacia esta absorción. Al mismo tiempo, el verdadero amor es un no-tocar, pero casi-tocar de todos modos. Devórame, amor mío, de lo contrario te devoraré. El miedo a comer, el miedo de lo comible, el miedo de aquél de ambos que se siente amado, deseado, que quiere ser amado, deseado, que desea ser deseado, que sabe que no hay mayor prueba de amor que el apetito del otro, que se muere de ganas de ser comido y se muere de miedo ante la idea de ser comido, que dice o no dice, pero significa: te lo suplico, devórame. Quiéreme hasta el tuétano. Y sin embargo arréglatelas para dejarme vivir. Pero a menudo se transpone, porque se sabe que el otro no devorará finalmente, y se dice: muérdeme. Firma mi muerte con tus dientes.”
Hélène Cixous, "El amor del lobo y otros remordimientos". Ed. Arena Libros
Lygia Clark & Hélio Oiticica, Diálogo: Óculos (Dialogue goggles), 1968
lygia clark in beyond preconceptions: the sixties experiment - independent curators international new york (2000)
Lygia Clark - Bicho - Monumento a Todas as Situações (2006)
Aluminum 65.4 x 53.5 x 40.6 cm
Once I’ve been called a dreamer as an insult but I didn’t take it
Today I kind of understand what the person meant and I could most definitely say I’m very silly
“our call for help didn’t exist back then. we had our help without cries and it followed us each day in the form of our friends (…) and now we seek for attention. our call for help turned into a constant echo. a minute of your time. only a minute of your time, sir. do you have a penny? do you wanna buy newspapers?”
part of a text i just wrote in portuguese because i’m feeling nostalgic and it’s 5 in the morning and i can’t sleep
(…)Morrer pra mim é tornar-se insensível à realidade - e ressalvo: realidade relativa. (…) Limitado a o que um dia me disseram que era tudo, perdi o passo onde ser tudo é pretexto pra ser nada. (…) Quem espera algo desses dias cinzas, enuviados, onde a preguiça nos espreme o sono dos olhos, uma luz a ideias tão amarguradas por nós mesmos? (…)
chaww. oils on linen, 2019
