her ocean waves

Is it possible that existence is our exile and nothingness our home? ~ Emil Cioran

[her-oceanwaves]

Instructions for Handling a Wild Mind

Step one, do not trust the stairs. They will rise, they will vanish, they will turn into cliffs mid-step. Step two, when the rage arrives do not pretend it is small. It is a beast with ribbons in its teeth, it wants to be seen, it wants to be loud. You will want to scream, not politely, not quietly, but in a way that rearranges the sky. Meanwhile, everyone else will be sipping their calm like tea, like nothing inside them is breaking furniture. Do not be fooled. You are not wrong, just louder. Step three, when the suffocation comes and your chest forgets how to be a home, sit with it like a strange animal. Offer it crumbs. Offer it your name. Step four, laugh. Laugh like a villain in a story with no ending. Laugh because the madness is yours, and it refuses to leave.

[soracities]

when e.e. cummings said “i’ll live my life if it kills me”

[softspringsolace]

when andrea gibson said “i suppose i love this life, in spite of my clenched fist.” & when ellen bass said “to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it”

[typewriter-worries]

when james baldwin said, “this is why one must say yes to life and embrace it wherever it is found-and it is found in terrible places; nevertheless, there it is;”

[queerpontmercy]

when Mary Oliver said “it is a serious thing / just to be alive / on this fresh morning / in this broken world”

[sovietpostcards]

Penguins in Antarctica. Photo by Gennady Koposov (1967).

[her-oceanwaves]

whisper your dreams to the stars and watch them drift, carried slow across the velvet dark. tuck your sorrows into quiet constellations. trust them to the night. drop your hopes, glowing faintly, into the universe, and feel your heart rest among the galaxies. the ache remains, but it softens in the arms of the cosmos.

~herbluelullaby

[her-oceanwaves]

you walk beneath the sky as if it is only distance, forgetting it is also memory. the stars are old storytellers, whispering of lives you might have lived if you had turned left instead of right, spoken instead of stayed quiet, lingered instead of leaving.

somewhere, in a universe just a step to the side, you are laughing with the ones you lost. in another, you never learned the taste of regret. and yet, here you are, carrying all the weight of this single path. pause. breathe. let the night remind you that you are not only this version, not only this sorrow.

~ herbluelullaby

[butterflycharms]

[her-oceanwaves]

i really don't wanna die old. just let me live until my 40s. ill just take care of my animals and then i'll rest deep in a forest under most.

[her-oceanwaves]

i am angry. I don't know what to do with this rage inside me. and so i spit fire and burn.

[incilerden]

[ashstfu]

girls don’t have a dream job, they just want a coffee shop which is also a flower shop and a bookshop combined

[her-oceanwaves]

My soul is dying. I can feel how my days are all the same and I'm so numb to everything. I know it. I feel it. And I can't do a damn thing. I wanna scream but I'm numb. I wanna ask for help but I'm numb. It's like I'm freezing over here while everyone continues to live. My soul is dying and I don't know how to say it to my family... to a friend. How can you talk about your soul dying to someone? They'll ask you how are you? What's going on with you lately and you wanna cry and scream pls help, pls notice, pls, I'm dying here. But you can't. It feels like something is stopping you. It feels like something is stuck in your throat so you just cry and beat your chest and never reply until your friendship with them cools... and then ends.

My soul is dying. I'm sorry I didn't reply. I don't know what to say.

[amilkyway]

fireflies lighting up a rural Pennsylvania field at dusk

[her-oceanwaves]

there is still a soft melancholia inside me, but it doesn’t burn the way it used to. it sleeps with the days that have long drifted away. my sadness is like a lost limb now . i still feel its ghost most days, but i’ve learned to walk with it.

~ herbluelullaby

[coltre]

okay you seem nice but do animals trust you?

[legendary-scholar-deactivated20]

[butterflycharms]

​︵‿౨ৎ‿︵

[fairyinjeans]

“Her face radiated something of the last century’s romantic glow,”

— Sándor Márai, tr. by George Szirtes, from “Esther’s Inheritance,” c. 1939 (via violentwavesofemotion)