Clandestine

meh and existential dread..

[weltenwellen]

Adonis, tr. by Khaled Mattawa, Selected Poems

[blssmjpg]

[aepex]

[labella-instagram]

[filoxenia]

the peach delirium

[intactics-deactivated20211231]

and i don't necessarily believe any of this i'm just saying words recreationally

[theaxiomofhope]

the last sentence of my thesis

[iwas-handpicked]

she’s in her “just tryna graduate” era bro leave that woman alone

[sweatermuppet]

from journal entry (april 11th 2022, silas denver melvin, paper + digital)

click for quality + do not remove caption (instagram)

[ID: a black and white photograph of several muscovy ducks swimming in a line on a pond. in yellow text above them it reads "it's hard work, trying to make yourself into something your mother can stand to look at." /End ID]

[soft-lovely]

annotation

[soracities]

“The more I understand of myself and the more I understand of the temperament of those artists whom I admire, the more I am convinced that what separates talent from genius is nothing more nor less than confidence: the ability not to be frightened of making a fool of yourself. This is a dangerous thing to say. It opens the door to sheer bravura. But that is a very different thing from the kind of confidence I am talking about. Bravura comes from the desire to impress which in turn comes from the same fear of making a fool of yourself. The confidence I speak of is not made out of the opinions of others. It comes from solitude.”

— John Berger, A Painter of Our Time

[nevver]

Eli Sostre, Keanu Kay Milborrow

[likewildhorses]

untitled, Nailea Salazar

[id: at the end of the table, severing humiliation with silent hands—because we have talked about God, so we have talked about everything /end id]

[nastywizard]

GIVE IT UP FOR GAY SEX SUNDAY

[soracities]

“Last night I listened hard into the dark. I was waiting for a poem to you.”

— Shane Seely, from “Second Attempt at Elegy for Anthony Piccione,” Image: Art, Faith, Mystery (no. 62, Summer 2009)

[soracities]

“Last night I listened hard into the dark. I was waiting for a poem to you.”

— Shane Seely, from “Second Attempt at Elegy for Anthony Piccione,” Image: Art, Faith, Mystery (no. 62, Summer 2009)

[endless-unfolding]

“The Italians have a word for the store of poems you have in your head: a gazofilacio […] in its original language it actually means a treasure chamber of the mind. The poems I remember are the milestones marking the journey of my life. And unlike paintings, sculptures or passages of great music, they do not outstrip the scope of memory, but are the actual thing, incarnate.”

— Clive James, ‘The poems I remember are the milestones marking the journey of my life,’ The Guardian (26 September 2020)

[weltenwellen]

Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena