WHO'S THERE?

SIDEBLOG

[89rooms]

“I want to tear up the earth until I find you,”

— Miguel Hernández, from Selected Poems; “Elegy,” wr. c. January 1936

[joafonso-deactivated20170628]

Sofia Calvet (instagram: calvet_scenesfromamemory)

[89rooms]

“There was only one place she wanted to be. One place where everything made sense and she felt at peace…at home. His arms. She needed to be back in his arms.”

— ramblingsofacrazyheart ♡ 

[dinsintegration]

[89rooms]

“With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of madness … something devouring that could lick a man all over like a flame, annihilate him.”

— Anais Nin

[elektrakute]

Art by @cybervoidgirl on Twitter

[89rooms]

“i become an adjective to describe pain”

— Lahraeb Munir, from “multilingual,” concave in a convex heart

[luxelouubygemmalouise-deactivat]

[nerdjpg]

Oh that two year gap on my resume was when I was the architect of my own hell

[leirelatent]

[thoughtkick]

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

— Carl Gustav Jung

[ponticgreek-deactivated20210224]

[ghost-faces-deactivated20250916]

in the 19th century i would've gotten diagnosed with ghosts in my brain

[abduction]

[89rooms]

“She wrote him a love letter on the surface of her skin… “I think of you touching me,“ she wrote, “and heat rises inside of me… I fear people can smell it, that heat. I look in their eyes at work, my underwear dripping, unable to escape your hands, the thought of your fingers, your pinches, my need to have you inside of me. I gush… what must they think… I feel your bruises, long disappeared, speaking to me, coaxing me to remember your mouth and your hands covering them again. Come to me… come to me and end these thoughts, these memories, this flow of need… Cover my mouth, cover my skin with yours. Erase these words and write your own, make me yours, give me back my mind, my life, even if only for a little while.”

— Peregrine

[heartbreakhur]

[89rooms]

“She’s the most beautiful thing in the world to me, the dearest and—the most difficult to understand. The sound of her step enchants me, her changeful eyes dispense happiness—and trouble. She’s like Destiny itself, she never hesitates.”

— Colette, tr. by Maire Kelly, from Selected Stories; “Barks and Purrs,”