Jia @jiayinspo - Tumblr Blog

every good thing has the inherent sadness about it for when it passes and it will have to pass. everything will have to pass. its all onboarding trains and then watching them go by from train stations and i hope the next thing i love kills me

allsadnshit

I think it's an unrecognized practice to allow yourself to outgrow and shed versions of yourself that were more socially successful than who you want or need to be now. Not every new chapter is bigger and bolder and hotter, I think that's a very modern social media "glow up" mindset and doesn't actually have any room for what real transformation looks like. Sometimes we change exactly as we need to and it's not what anyone else was hoping for and that's part of it being important and true.

latibule-e-deactivated20231012

— Elena Ferrante, from “The Days of Abandonment.”

kafkaesquebibliomaniac

"But when we sit together, close,’ said Bernard, ‘we melt into each other with phrases. We are edged with mist. We make an unsubstantial territory."

-Virginia Woolf, The Waves.-

(Artwork by Ratsandlilies.)

bluebandit-deactivated20220607

I be like idc then talk to myself about it for hours

holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe

“Your healing is not in my hands, though I touch as if to make you whole.”

— The New Testament, “To Be Seen” by Jericho Brown

holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe

“I am that kind of pain Put to purpose but unloved,”

— The New Testament, “Another Angel” by Jericho Brown

deadpoet-skull

i am sick full. full of events that made me think "i gotta tell them this". full of objects that make me think of you. full of strangers faces i see yours in. full of songs i want you to enjoy. full of movies i want you to watch. full of places i wanna take you. full of untaked photos, ungiven kisses. i am so full of emptyness it makes me vomit.

lotusinjadewell

Autumn in Da Lat, Vietnam. Credit to Như Như Ý.

brokenheartedcubscout

the autobiography of red, anne carson // the hours, michael cunningham // autobiography of my hungers, eduardo c. corral // the embrace, ron hicks // to myself, ron hicks // desire, years and years // how to live safely in a science fictional universe, charles yu // birds hover the trampled field, richard siken // romantic soul, ron hicks // ego, m. roosevelt & mitski

soracities

“Night thinks it’s crying again and I keep listening to a song about autumn where an apple tastes like longing and every leaf in the maple tree tries to explain loss through a series of colors—hectic orange, indifferent red, a kind of gold that speaks directly to god or moonbeams and in the dark as I drive down wet roadways watching for deer, the only thing I can see clearly are the yellow leaves christening my windshield and I think how we are taught not to love too many, too much, the night, the darkness, and I think I am crying but it is only rain.”

— Kelli Russell Agodon, “Night thinks it’s crying again,” Southern Indiana Review (Spring 2021)