GODLIKE

we have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven // tracking @ikhthos

[pinkmoon888]

trc characters + major arcana: orla.

the card of conscious connections; of raw honesty; of choice. your values are being challenged, and you are called to take the higher path. choose love.

[pinkmoon888]

trc characters + major arcana: persephone poldma.

the high priestess will usher you through the veil of awareness; she will teach you that the world is not always as it seems. hers is the card of illumination and insight. think instead of feeling. create instead of destroying.

[sunchosens]

But what about the rest of us? What about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? We learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. We learn to wring magic from the ordinary. That was how you survived when you weren’t chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.

a url edit for @inejsghcfa

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

when sylvia plath said “i want to meet and know and love people with that intense rapport, transient and elusive as it may be, which i have felt so strongly on so many separate instances: i want to condition myself to hear, and not just listen; to see, and not just look, to communicate, and not just talk; to feel, and not just touch”

[yangsubinie]

“In moonlight, black boys look blue”

[oamul]

Hello NOV

[goodreadss]

Almond Branches In Bloom, San Remy | Vincent Van Gogh

[minelockscreen]

[kxowledge]

Anne Carson, An Oresteia

[windflowerfairy]

by Emily Dickinson

[poetbitesback]

I jaywalk as the telephone wires hum and I wonder what messages  they sing, the angry voicemails  and the desperate pleas. all of the hangups they catch in flat notes and the ballads that stretch afraid of a goodbye- maybe despite it all we are still all romantics, just too afraid of permanence, of being seen for what we really are

- screened calls || O.L.

[veliseraptor]

I asked Agamemnon point-blank about Iphigenia. He wept, but not the way people weep from grief: from fear and weakness. He had to do it, he said. “Had to do what?” I asked coldly. I wanted him to say it. He squirmed. He had to sacrifice her, he said. That was not what I wanted to hear: but of course murderers and butchers do not know words like “murder” and “butcher.”

Cassandra: A Novel and Four Essays by Christa Wolf (via veliseraptor)

[wordsnquotes]

“Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.”

— E.E. Cummings

[ikhthos]

5 / x instagram feeds: achilles and patroclus.

[ikhthos]

1 / x alternate book covers: the secret history, donna tartt

heart-shaking. glorious. torches, dizziness, singing. wolves howling around us and a bull bellowing in the dark. the river ran white. it was like a film in fast motion, the moon waxing and waning, clouds rushing across the sky.

[volrachnun]

That’s why we call him Wylan Van Sunshine.

[ikhthos]

5 / x instagram feeds: achilles and patroclus.