Iconnu

Iconnu

[000l]

[shrewreadings]

like to charge, reblog to cast.

[thehopefulquotes]

“I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It’s not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel all alone.”

— Robin Williams

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Gustave Flaubert, from a letter to Louise Colet (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

[iconnu]

I despise always searching for the right words to say, the most genuine methods of loving someone, the most humane ways of extending empathy to others.

I no longer want others to have expectations of me.

[perfeqt]

“There’s really no shortcut to forgetting someone. You just have to endure missing them everyday until you don’t anymore.”

— Unknown

[fairycosmos]

bit mad innit. This whole thing

[verticalrad]

“The fact that going off the deep end appears to be a requisite to doing anything of consequence in this life has not escaped me.”

— Jim Harrison

[persianmom-deactivated20251026]

escape room but it's actually just my brain

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

[a-mind-in-ruins]

When I forget to stay busy for a split second and I get a wave of everything that's ever hurt me.

[twocozy]

Oh, Kafka, we’re really in it now …

[iconnu]

These days people tell me their secrets without trying. They're not even aware of what they revealed.

[handsomeboymodelingschool]

You need to draw and make art or else all the images will stay in your head and you'll get sick

[iconnu]

Exactly how I feel with writing. There are so many thoughts, far too many to remain contained if I hope to stay sane.

Yet I haven't written in years.

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

I've been too afraid to cut myself open for fear of what I may find. It seems that fear has been beating me down. It's time for change once more.

[iconnu]

i almost have sympathy for everyone who has underestimated me in my life.

almost.

[iconnu]

I was able to view the Hunter’s Moon quite clearly on the weekend.  It was bright and the soft orange hue maintained a gorgeous contrast against the backdrop of the night sky.  I had mixed the grain with the grappa and as such I found my head needed to be cleared before I could write.

Whisky quickens my blood while the grapes keep me seated and tempt a curiosity which has always assisted me with my writing.  I required the cool air against my face and was soon outside and walking along a bikepath that cut through the green hills beyond the back gate of my home.

The coyotes yipped and whistled in the distance.  A frenzied whirlwind of sound that I always needed to stand still and listen closely to truly hear.  Harmless of course.  There is a wild cat I have seen many times on night walks, a Lynx or a Bobcat, which requires caution far more than the coyotes do.

When I returned home I wrote a true sentence.

It has taken a few days to recover from reading it.

[theglitchywriterboi]

I hope every writer who sees this writes LOADS the next few months. Like freetime opens up, no writers block, the ability to focus, etc etc you're able to write loads & make lots of progress <3

[wordswilling]

Any writer, I suppose, feels that the world into which he was born is nothing less than a conspiracy against the cultivation of his talent — which attitude certainly has a great deal to support it. On the other hand, it is only because the world looks on his talent with such a frightening indifference that the artist is compelled to make his talent important.

James Baldwin, “Autobiographical Notes,” Notes of a Native Son (via wordswilling)