in flight & fury @inflightandfury - Tumblr Blog

pictures i didn't take:

two middle aged Japanese men talking and dining on shrimp

creepy statue of a tiny man with haunted eyes

red curtains making the room glow pink, the light reflected on skin

8pm shadows, parallel and distorted on the ground

reflections on the tv: of one person standing, the other one sleeping just a few feet away

#lightness and weight

exhaled-spirals

« We take pictures because we can’t accept that everything passes, we can’t accept that the repetition of a moment is an impossibility. We wage a monotonous war against our own impending deaths, against time that turns children into that other, lesser species: adults. We take pictures because we know we will forget. We will forget the week, the day, the hour. We will forget when we were happiest. We take pictures out of pride, a desire to have the best of ourselves preserved. We fear that we will die and others will not know that we lived. »

— Michelle Richmond, The Year of Fog

#quote #reblogs

ashstfu

i keep thinking about this: maybe love isn’t a destination or a possession but an influence. a force that changes your shape. that helps you become. and when it’s gone, it doesn’t mean you’ve lost it. it means you’ve absorbed it. the people who leave don’t take it with them. they leave it behind in you.

ashstfu

love is about transforming. about leaving someone better than you found them, even if you had to leave. and i hope i’ve done that. i hope somewhere, someone is still listening to a song i showed them. still laughing at something i said. still drinking their coffee the way i do. we don’t belong to each other but we do belong to the versions of ourselves we became in each other’s presence and in that way, we never truly lose anyone.

#reblogs #love

jareckiworld

Tan Mu — A Sunday Afternoon in the Park (oil on linen, 2022)

#reblogs #art

theseventeensteps

obsessed with how fixable society is, on a structural level.

obsessed with how all you need to do is throw money at public education and eliminate most standardized testing and you will start getting smarter, more engaged, kinder adults. obsessed with how giving people safe housing, reliable access to good food, and decent wages dramatically reduces drug overdoses and gun violence. obsessed with how much people actually want to get together and fix infrastructure, invent new ways of helping each other, and create global ways of living sustainably once you give them livable pay to do so. obsessed with how tracking diseases, developing medicines, and improving public health becomes so much easier when you just make healthcare free at point of use.

obsessed with how easy it all becomes, if we can just figure out how to wrench the wealth out of the hands of the hoarders.

theseventeensteps

i've lived in four different cities in my adult life and talked to literally tens of thousands of people about politics and the change they want to see in the world and the overwhelming majority of them wanted life to be better, happier, easier for everyone, and dreamed of that world. the only people who didn't think that way were A) really obviously in need of mental/medical care, or B) rich.

wanting universal free healthcare, well-funded public education, and social support for all people is the most unbelievably normie opinion that exists, even among people who have lots of bad or misguided opinions about other things. when you feel alone, know that the reason you feel that way is billions of dollars are being spent to obscure the fact that you are in the majority.

#reblogs

poem-locker

Mikael De Lara Co, “The Doomed“

Poetry with lilies can’t stop tanks. Neither can poetry with tanks. This much is true. Here is more or less how it happens. You sit at your desk to write a poem about lilies and a clip of 9mm’s is emptied into the chest of a mother in Zamboanga. Her name was Hamira. I sit at my desk to write a poem about tanks and a backhoe in Ampatuan crushes the spines of 57 – I am trying to find another word for bodies. The task of poetry is to never run out of words. This is more or less how it happens: I find another word for bodies and Hamira remains dead. Her son was with her when she was shot. I didn’t catch his name. I don’t know if he died. Perhaps he placed lilies on his mother’s grave. Perhaps he was buried beside her. One word for lily is enough. There is enough beauty in flowers. I want to find beauty in sufffering. I want to fail.

#poetry #reblogs

jordanbolton

To The People I Pass On The Train At Night - Jordan Bolton

My first book ‘Blue Sky Through the Window of a Moving Car’ is now available to pre-order! Get it here - https://smarturl.it/BlueSky

#reblogs

1five1two

'Dream'. Paul Herrmann. 1914.

#reblogs

neshamama

photos of palestinian artist duniyana al-amour's room, where she was killed by israeli strike at the age of 22.

adnan, father of duniyana al-amour (2000-2022), sits among her drawings in her damaged room which was hit by an israeli strike, east of khan yunis, in the southern gaza strip, monday, august 10, 2022. al-amour's drawings in her damaged room after shrapnel tore through her bedroom during Israel's surprise opening salvo, hours before militants fired any rockets.

“i am not making anything amazing. i am merely trying, amidst this isolation, to make life bearable.” - al-amour on her work

#reblogs