wretched and divine

"It's rotten work" | "Not to me, not if it's you."

[anxeious]

[nathanielorion]

הבל | hevel

This is how it goes: God whispers in Cain’s jealous ear, drawing his attention to the Sin crouched at his doorway. Sin has haunted eyes and a mouth that has been kissed. Let there be no doubt that Sin has been kissed, with a wet-red mouth that may taste of blood or pomegranate or the electric crackle of a stoplight. Cain looks at Sin. He runs his tongue over his teeth.

This is how it goes: Cain leaves the house at one am in bare feet and a hoodie, careful to avoid the last stair that creaks, and treks out into the Field. There are many fields in the world but there is only one Field. Cain feels the difference in the grass when he crosses the border from field to Field, the way the grey-green blades stand up at attention in his wake, the way the dirt turns ice-cold and furious beneath his heels. The earth is good with foreshadowing. The tree of Knowledge has deep roots.

This is how it goes: God says, I will take you or your brother.

God says, You get to choose.

And Cain says, “When you split me and my brother in the womb, you did not divide us evenly. He got kindness, and I got longing. He got complacence, and I got ambition. I want to kill him sometimes. I think sometimes he wants to die.”

I have never made brothers before, God explains. That is how I thought they were made. What more do you want?

“I want to steal some of his kindness,” Cain says, and shakes his pocket knife out of his sleeve.

Back at home, Abel sits up in his bed with a start, heart racing. That was close, he thinks, that was a damn close one, and does not know why.

In the Field, the ground warms as blood seeps into the dirt. 

[elixir]

Gordon Mortensen (b. 1938), Meadows Ridge, Woodcut on Paper

[lacetulle]

Schiaparelli | Fall/Winter 2023 Couture

[talonabraxas]

′′ the saint ′′

[aqua-regia009]

Dongni Hou (Chinese b.1987)

https://www.instagram.com/douni_hou/

[photos-of-space]

Moon, Jupiter and its Gallilean moons.

[kelsi-is-sleeping]

Braille subdermal implants. 

Directly translates to, “No sky no earth but still snowflakes fall”

[lacetulle]

Tony Ward | Spring/Summer 2023 Couture

[pureprincessa]

[fuckingwhateverdude]

“desert song” by my chemical romance // “kneeling angel with candlestick” from the sculptures of michelangelo // readers digest: north american wildlife

[lesbian-i-ching]

Visit Original Link

Picture a man Seen like a speck out from the shore Swimming out beyond the breakers like he's done his life before He feels the coming of a squall will drag him out a greater length But knows his strength And tries to gather it

And he swims on Turning back to shore again Above the outer atmosphere of a world he's never seen And looking down to his new home, he feels the rising of a wave And knows at once he will not weather it

Like that man I looked down into the depths when I met you I couldn't measure it

Any time I've struggled on Against the course Out on my own Every time I'd burn through the world, I'd see That the world, it burns through me But when I'd let go My struggling form My willing soul Every time I'd flow through the world, I'd see That the world, it flows through me That the world, it flows through me

Picture a grave Picture six feet freshly dug The sharp temporary walls at the long-term cliff edge of the world Light and air find some new deepness there and usher down the sky Where one stands by and tries make sense of it

But try measure loss Measure the silence of a house The unheard footsteps at the doorway The unemployment of the mouth The waking up, having forgotten And remembering again the full extent of what forever is

With each grave I think of loss And I can only think of you And I couldn't measure it

Any time I've struggled on Against the course Out on my own Every time I'd burn through the world, I'd see That the world, it burns through me But when I'd let go My struggling form My willing soul Every time I'd flow through the world, I'd see That the world, it flows through me That the world, it flows through me

[byjove]

People on that post I made about liking fur and leather saying “Actually, we all just need to consume less 🥺” yes. That’s what I’m fucking saying. I got my primary leather jacket for Christmas in my freshman year of high school and I’m now 22. My fur coat was made in the 50s and I picked it up for $60 at an antique store years ago. I still sometimes wear a pair of leather hiking boots my mom got in the 90s while the pleather boots I bought in high school barely lasted 3 years. By wearing fur and leather, I am consuming less. It’s economical in the long run, the quality is better and it lasts longer. You think I have the money to buy a brand new leather jacket every year? The other two leather jackets I have are also vintage, one is from the 70s was fished out of the garbage and the other was $9 at a thrift store. They. Last.

[sweatermuppet]

oh cool it's decemeber! *grieves & grieves & grieves & grieves &*

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

“Relax wild one. It’s not your job to be everything everyone needs, and you don’t have to be impressive to be loved. Stop trying so hard. Just show up … and be real with the world. That is enough.”

— Brooke Hampton

[latibule-e-deactivated20231012]

— Tina Chang, from “Color.”

[3000s]

all food is "guilt free" to me because i love foods and treats and snacks and drinks forever and ever amen