𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕔𝕪𝕠𝕟 ☼ 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 @langvor - Tumblr Blog

shisasan

July 10, 1930 Journals of Anais Nin 1927-1931 [volume 4]

terrorignitis

Juansen Dizon, i am the architect of my own destruction

slipng

🐾 you are pawed ฅ

slipng

your dashboard is mothed ི༘ ࿔̥̊ཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮

soracities

Charles Wright, from "A Journal of the Year of the Ox", The World of Ten Thousand Things: Poems 1980-1990 [ID'd]

wovi

*

anna świrszczyńska

pnglove

wax seal stamp pngs ♡

irissargent

“I want the cottage. I want the

green grass and the tomato plants.

I want the peace in you;

the front porch rocking chair lullaby;

our cricket legs rubbing

together under the covers.

We can’t have it all. I know

that, but humor me. We can’t

have it all, but we can have most of it.”

- excerpt from Caitlyn Siehl, Apple Pie Life (after Ali Shapiro’s “American Dream”)

alonesomes

“Sometimes I imagine my own autopsy. Disappointment in myself: right kidney. Disappointment of others in me: left kidney. Personal failures: kishkes. When the clocks are turned back and the dark falls before I’m ready, this, for reasons I can’t explain, I feel in my wrists. And when I wake up and my fingers are stiff, almost certainly I was dreaming of my childhood. Yesterday I saw a man kicking a dog and I felt it behind my eyes. I don’t know what to call this, a place before tears. The pain of forgetting: spine. The pain of remembering: spine. All the times I have suddenly realized that my parents are dead, even now, it still surprises me, to exist in the world while that which made me has ceased to exist: my knees. To everything a season, to every time I’ve woken only to make the mistake of believing for a moment that someone was sleeping beside me: a hemorrhoid. Loneliness: there is no organ that can take it all.”

— Nicole Krauss, The History of Love (via larmoyante)

tristamateer

“I miss you so much it feels gross. It feels wet. It feels nauseating. I want to rip out my heart and shake it like a magic eight ball.“Is this okay, is this okay, is this okay or does it make me weak?””

— “Ask Again Later” Trista Mateer

geopsych

Three years ago today. I love this bit of video. Not sure why.

mashamorevna

“I didn’t know that the war was still inside you, that there was a war to begin with, that once it enters you it never leaves—but merely echoes”

— Ocean Vuong, “A Letter to My Mother that She Will Never Read ” (via bulgakeov)

alonesomes

“Your neck looks best when you are drinking wine right from the bottle and I know the length you like to keep your fingernails. You are cute when you hum to music and think no one is listening. I like to watch your hands when you are talking on the phone and imagining I’m the only person in the world who knows these details. If you ever go missing, I will describe you to the police by explaining the way your breath sounds and how your jaw looks when you are laughing.”

— anne, little things (via junecoast)

soracities

“The shortest poem is a name.”

— Anne Michaels from A Definition of Fiction and Poetry (via lesgardenias)

exit152

a body inside my body. amazing, but that’s no holy thing. telling ur mom. giving me clothes. winter with sun on the side. egg drop soup. seven linen sheets, all white. the wonders of the world. I found them. crouched in ur sunroom behind the monkey ashtray. such specific taste. Spanish tongue. dark hair and I’m uglier than that. so being with u is the late & sweet garden scene in the princess diaries. I say, why me? why me? then, no matter what, we kiss.