uh oh

(on hiatus) // I write sometimes

[anthropoetics]

[mossyshadows]

“A kitchen is the best—I mean the saddest—room for tears. A bedroom is too easy, a bathroom too private, a living room too formal. If someone falls to pieces in the kitchen, in the space of work and nourishment, they must be truly coming undone. The bright lights offer no comfort, only illuminate. The floor should be vinyl and cold.”

— Heather Christle, from The Crying Book (via lifeinpoetry)

[aseaofquotes]

Rosamunde Pilcher, The Shell Seekers

[primulaceas]

Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone, This Is How You Lose the Time War

[frankiepupsicle]

[kuchipachi]

trista mateer/ sade andria zabala/ miranda july/ hozier/ neil hilborn/ ernest hemingway/ bon iver/ trista mateer 

[aseaofquotes]

Paul Schmidtberger, Design Flaws of the Human Condition

[1hx]

“I don’t know how to write love letters. But I wanted to tell you that my whole being opened for you. Since I fell in love with you everything is transformed and is full of beauty…. love is like an aroma, like a current, like rain. You know, my sky, you rain on me and I, like the earth, receive you.” - Frida Kahlo, October 1946

[fuckindiva]

Aeschylus’ The Oresteia: Agamemnon (tr. Richmond Lattimore)

[cosmic-storm]

[serratedpens]

Danez Smith, “It Began Right Here”

[plasmapop]

14/02/18

[theoptia]

Olga Berggolts, from The Penguin Book of Russian Poetry; “Ordeal”

Text ID: ...the strength / to see and recognize / how all you have ever loved / will [...] torment you.

[chthonic-isabelleadjani-deactiv]

The idea of english as a mother tongue is so strange to me, in my head english is how ppl communicate when there's no way in common to communicate, so english as a mother tongue sounds a bit like idk email as a mother tongue ykwim? Like english to me feels like the stuff that's used to fill the empty spaces between languages

[carnivorine]

Ok English is my native language and unfortunatly the only one I know yet, but this reminds me so much of that passage in Flights by Olga Tokarczuk

[dearestdeads]

“As with a wound on one’s own body, it is possible to develop an intimacy with the most disturbing of things.”

— Kazuo Ishiguro, A Pale View of Hills 

[inkllngs]

.

[soracities]

Paolo Giordano, The Solitude of Prime Numbers