“Room Of One's Own”

[metvmorqhoses]

“i prefer to think of poetry, as redistribution of melancholy.”

— from a graffiti on a wall in rome - i might be wrong, but the author did read tsh. that or henry winter is still alive.

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“No human being has ever stood so close to my soul as you stand,”

— James Joyce, from a letter to Nora Barnacle written c. August 1904

[intothelightonceagain-deactivat]

[fotobilog]

[qseeda]

[thisiszahraa]

[oumaimas]

The Diaries of Franz Kafka, 1914-1923

[no-longer-another-bondi-blonde]

[goldpixy-deactivated20230510]

[ilovmusic]

[calellon]

Still Life with Books, Jan Davidsz. de Heem, 1625 - 1630 (detail)

[weltenwellen]

Ellen Bass, “The Thing Is”, Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems

[thoughtkick]

“Almost. It’s a big word for me. I feel it everywhere. Almost home. Almost happy. Almost changed. Almost, but not quite. Not yet. Soon, maybe.”

— Joan Bauer

[the-book-diaries]

“I’m really a very happy, contented little person in spite of my broken heart.”

— L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea

[qseeda]

[weltenwellen]

Audre Lorde, from “A Litany for Survival”, The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde

[bled]