znów wędrujemy ciepłą ziemią

poland~~queer🌈///"my loneliness is painful. But when I move into the world, it feels like a moral fall — like seeking love in a whorehouse.”

[gothredy]

Sirène” by Malene Laugesen

[moonandtrees]

[roubasura]

postcard for this month.

held <3

[pisces-core]

[mismedleym]

visitation by an angel (revisited)

[pillarofawesome]

@sayonaramisa

[computerexploder]

im just someones weird sister

[8-bitfiction]

[killyridols]

urn by kyra connolly, 2023, ceramic, wire, candles, unknown dimensions

[gothredy]

[detailedart]

Bottle green details: Rolling Waves. Painter: Constantin Westchiloff (1877-1945).

[internethistory]

[sovietunions]

“You won’t allow me to go to school. I won’t become a doctor. Remember this: One day you will be sick.”

—

Poem written by an 11 year old Afghan girl 

This poem was recorded in a NYT magazine article about female underground poetry groups in Afghanistan. An amazing article about the ways in which women are using a traditional two line poetry form to express their resistance to male oppression, their feelings about love (considered blasphemous).

Here’s the link

(via thexpotent)

[girlwithouthands]

“Paths are the habits of a landscape. They are acts of consensual making. It’s hard to create a footpath on your own […]. Paths connect. This is their first duty and their chief reason for being. They relate places in a literal sense, and by extension they relate people. Paths are consensual, because without common care and common practice they disappear: overgrown by vegetation, ploughed up or built over. Paths need walking. In 19th century Suffolk small sickles called ‘hooks’ were hung on stiles and posts at the start of certain well-used paths: those running between villages, for example. A walker would pick up a hook and use it to lop off branches that were starting to impede passage. The hook would then be left at the other end of the path, for a walker coming in the opposite direction. In this manner the path was collectively maintained for general use.”

— Robert Macfarlane, The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot

[existential-celestial]

“never forget that softness is strength, unflinching / against the knife and it is also the knife.”

— Jess Rizkallah, from “Ghada says,” The Magic My Body Becomes: Poems

[sweetd3lights]

[existential-celestial]

Wislawa Szymborska, from  "Notes from a Nonexistent Himalayan Expedition“ (Favorite Poem Project).

[dridelus]