[derangedrhythms]

[…] he had a delight in dwelling on dark things, and entertaining odd fancies –

Emily Brontë, from ‘Wuthering Heights’

[weltenwellen]

Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body

[funeral]

D.W. Winnicott

[weltenwellen]

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

[megairea]

—  Hilda Doolittle, from Winter Love

[typewriter-worries]

[ Text ID: Helen, Helen, come home; / there was a Helen before there was a War, / but who remembers her? ]

[addictivecontradiction]

Little children, 2006

[bitchyvvitch-deactivated2023060]

madame bovary is just the 19th century version of the bell jar if i'm being honest

[vanwssa]

She was the amoureuse of all the novels, the heroine of all the plays, the vague “she” of all the poetry books.

Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary (1856).

[laurapetrie]

“She had a cult for Mary Stuart and enthusiastic veneration for illustrious or ill-fated women.”

— Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary (1856)

[shisasan]

December 20, 1930 The early diary of Anaïs Nin, 1903-1977

[shisasan]

December 20, 1929 The early diary of Anaïs Nin, 1903-1977

[wedarkacademia]

(via violentwavesofemotion)

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.

— E. E. Cummings

[texaschainsawmascara]

The Thing Is - Ellen Bass / The Unpublished Poems of E.E. Cummings / Birthday - Andrea Gibson

[virgin-martyr]

excerpt from Antigone by Jean Anouilh (trans. Lewis Galantiere)

[feral-ballad]

Erika L. Sánchez, from Lessons on Expulsion: Poems; “Amá”

[Text ID: “In One Hundred Years of Solitude, / Márquez wrote that we are birthed / by our mothers only once, but life obligates / us to give birth / to ourselves over and over.”]

[feral-ballad]

Richard Siken, from Crush; “Dirty Valentine”

[Text ID: “There are so many things I’m not / allowed to tell you. / I touch myself, I dream.”]