Inbetween Imperfect Musings

I like synonyms, early mornings, and the word 'and'. I'm a medical student and it shows in all the jargon. Strong advocate of notes app poetry. 22. INTJ (sometimes feel like an INFJ but no). 5w4, 513. sp/sx.

[wizardarchetypes]

they should invent a grief that doesn’t define you in new and strange ways for the rest of your life

[wizardarchetypes]

[finita--la--commedia]

“I have something in my heart for you which will die only when I do.”

— Germaine de Staël (1766 - 1817), from a letter to O'Donnell.  [Chaumont,] 24 July [1810]  in: “Madame de Staël. Selected correspondence”, translated by Kathleen Jameson-Cemper 

[offbrandcornflakess]

i can’t explain why but “i love you” / “it’ll pass” is genuinely one of the most comforting pieces of dialogue i’ve ever come across. the context is deliberately sad, the hot priest is walking away from fleabag, choosing religion over love [“oh i don’t know what this feeling is” / “is it god or is it me?”] and it’s SICK because he loves her too [ “i can’t have sex with you because i’ll fall in love with you and if i fall in love with you, i won’t burst into flames, but my life will be fucked”] but like. it’s not a “sad ending” for the sake of being sad and realistic or an unreasonably happy ending preaching love and forever ever-afters. it doesn’t villainize or glorify the concept of love or people. it’s simply speaking the truth in the simplest of words. you’re in love with me and it’s going to make you miserable but it’ll pass. the pain will lessen and that ache in your chest will fade till it’s tolerable. you’ll laugh more often. soon it’ll be easier to get up in the mornings. this is a law, a rule, a fact. no matter how precious that pain is, how inescapable- it’ll pass. even though he’s the hot priest and she’s fleabag and they’re so obviously made to be happily in love w each other- it’ll still pass. it’s how we’re built- to persevere, to survive, to break and be okay again. 

[inbetweenimperfectmusings]

#real

[zerozerozio]

bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

[boimann]

reblog to let people know it's ok to bother you with questions and statements

[justsomeguycore]

it’s really important to me when men put their heads in women’s laps. one of the most important things i can see on my tv. men laying their heads in women’s laps or men sitting and women standing and the man holds her around the middle and presses his face into her tummy as she hugs him around the shoulders. two very important poses. extremely soul igniting tableaux.

[inbetweenimperfectmusings]

Agreed. Heavily. Dreaming of this.

[two-bees-poetry]

twenty years across the sea

[gigizetz]

And I've been waiting...

Waiting...

Waiting...

Waiting...

...For you.

[hopelessvalentines]

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Traci Brimhall, Dear Eros

[inbetweenimperfectmusings]

Problem of fantasy love and delusion. I'm in love with version of you that lives in my head and I don't even know the real one.

[mothmonologue]

My life is a constant cycle between "I need to rest before I burn out" and "I'm wasting my potential, I should work harder"

[mournfulroses]

Anne Michaels, from "Infinite Gradation," originally published in October 2017

[msvhs-deactivated20251231]

[ptimepoet]

[laylamess]

In another universe I had a chance to say goodbye

[inbetweenimperfectmusings]

In another universe I am capable of saying goodbye

[smokefalls]

We’re like people praying that we’ll bump into each other by chance as we’re rushed along in an infinitely wide river surging in one direction. The river has no end and there’s no way of traveling upstream.

Kim Bo-young, "I'm Waiting for You" from I'm Waiting for You and Other Stories (translated by Sophie Bowman)

[inbetweenimperfectmusings]

Who will kiss his inner thighs?

Who will run fingers through his hair when he’s asleep? 

Who is going to lie on his chest 

And look up at him like he is God? 

I insert myself in this role 

And wonder if anyone else can do it 

Just as well.

They can.

Probably better.

I cannot love everyone that much.

I may not ever love anyone that much.

[inbetweenimperfectmusings]

August is knocking, She’s whispering in my ear, Something about how time is up, She’s going back to sleep Until next year,

I spend my Augusts oversleeping, Not yet ready to change for the better, Sunny headaches, Pollen-ridden sneezes, Plagued much like the sneaky Virus underneath,

I rip my fingertips Trying to hang on with a grip slack, She lies down in a grassy enclave And doesn’t hold my hand back.

[inbetweenimperfectmusings]

The way he held my gaze

I held it back like it was a game,

But in the end it was only me who got played,

Because two hours shouldn’t burn a candle for two years,

And still I cannot crave anything other than

His breath in my ears,

His blue eyes arresting mine,

I am as hopeless as my mother always feared,

Because in no world is two hours worth 

Obsessing for two years.