Shadow Priest @illindriel - Tumblr Blog

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

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There is love in me the likes of which you’ve never seen. There is rage in me the likes of which should never escape. If I am not satisfied in the one, I will indulge the other.

gnossienne

Emily Dickinson, “Poem 670”

tlirsgender

T shirt that says "I don't want to hurt people I just have issues with vulnerability and get unimaginably angry for weird reasons" on the front and "I do also want to hurt people so much" on the back

malgriff

#((AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA))

cgcpoems

“Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief. Ask a headhunter why he cuts off human heads. He’ll say that rage impels him and rage is born of grief. The act of severing and tossing away the victim’s head enables him to throw away all of his bereavements. Perhaps you think this does not apply to you. Yet you recall the day your wife, driving you to your mother’s funeral, turned left instead of right at the intersection and you had to scream at her so loud other drivers turned to look. When you tore her head off and threw it out the window they nodded, changed gears, drove away.”

— Anne Carson, from Tragedy: A Curious Art Form (2006)