Living, finally, instead of always only trying to be cured or get well.
ā Kyra Wilder, from Gloss
Three Goblin Art

Discoholic šŖ©

@theartofmadeline
I'd rather be in outer space šø

izzy's playlists!

ā

Andulka
Not today Justin
$LAYYYTER
tumblr dot com

No title available
Mike Driver
trying on a metaphor
No title available

JVL
hello vonnie
Stranger Things
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

No title available
taylor price
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy

seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Canada
@leyla-a
Living, finally, instead of always only trying to be cured or get well.
ā Kyra Wilder, from Gloss
sudan (2008) by tosco diaz on flickr
āWe cannot live in a world that is interpreted for us by others. An interpreted world is not a home. Part of the terror is to take back our own listening. To use our own voice. To see our own light.ā
ā Hildegard von Bingen, fromĀ āSelected Writingsā (via letheane)
Shadows Of Children On Swings, Munich, Photo by Jon Naar, 1963
1. What are the words you do not have yet? [Or, āfor what do you not have words, yet?ā]
2. What do you need to say? [List as many things as necessary]
3. What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence? Ā [List as many as necessary today. Then write a new list tomorrow. And the day after. ]
4. If we have been socialized to respect fear more than our own need for language, ask yourself: āWhatās the worst that could happen to me if I tell this truth?ā [So, answer this today. And everyday.]
MƔrio Macilau (Mozambican, b. 1984)
Ear, 2021
perpetually wanting to return to the clearest form of internal stillness; to a place of balance. thank you for helping me with that, barcelona. itās been a good month and a half
Anne Boyer, What Resembles the Grave But Isnāt
[āFor many women, life ā and sex ā are a complex tussle between the need to harden, fortify, and push away on the one hand, and the need to receive, dissolve, and allow on the other. Women especially know the vulnerability which reigns over their lives ā they are made to know this, painfully, forcefully, too often, whether in the form of actual violation and invasion, or in the constant reminders of it.
It is immensely appealing to fantasize oneself to be inviolable, utterly autonomous, and in possession of firm boundaries ā and therefore able to ward off invasion. When you feel vulnerable, itās tempting to brace yourself against vulnerability ā the fantasy of hardening yourself so that nothing can hurt you. The collateral, however, is that nothing can reach you, either. How to protect oneself without denying vulnerability, with all its fruitfulness? āHowā, asks Lorde, āto feel love, how to neither discount fear nor be overwhelmed by it, how to enjoy feeling deeply?ā
When it comes to sex, there is pleasure to be had in vulnerability. It can be what makes sex joyful ā the giddy rewards of stepping haltingly into the water, the gasp on contact, the relief in the finding of ecstasy. We need to be vulnerable ā to take risks, to be open to the unknown ā if we are to experience joy and transformation. Thatās the bind: pleasure involves risk, and that can never be foreclosed or avoided. It is not by hardening ourselves against vulnerability that we ā any of us ā will find sexual fulfillment. It is in acknowledging, and opening ourselves to, our universal vulnerability.
Receptivity may also be a crucial part of pleasure. It is an exquisitely ambiguous trait; itās welcoming, itās open, and inviting ā and, by that token, itās also a risk. Letting things in, being porous ā being susceptible to the otherās needs and desires ā is what makes one tender to the feelings of others, and what puts one at their mercy.
When I invite someone in ā when I want them to enter ā I can never be sure that they will enter in the way that I want them to. Nor do I always know in advance how I want them to enter. Thatās why the invitation to sex is daunting, and why it can be so moving. To be met in oneās desire, and to be surprised in oneās desire, is an exercise in mutual trust and negotiation of fear. When it works, it can feel miraculous; a magical collision, safe and risky in just the right degrees, comfortable and challenging in just the right proportions. Itās rare, the strange alchemy of bodies and minds that can effect this melding of familiarity and unfamiliarity, of ease and surprise. Because itās rare, it should be treasured.ā]
katherine angel, from tomorrow the sex will be good again: women and desire in the age of consent, 2021
east sussex, england, july 2022
some things:
1. iām constantly reminded that the smallest joys will always fill my closest heart
2. time to make our lifelong dream of running away to the coast come true, girls. iām not sure how much of this is rooted in wanting to run from myself (i donāt think so; not this time anyway), letās find out in the next episode
3. lianne says ādonāt tell me you need me, i am estrangedā
Angela Davis and June Jordan in A Place of Rage dir. Pratibha Parmar (1991).
āHeartbreak begins the moment we are asked to let go but cannot, in other words, it colors and inhabits and magnifies each and every day; heartbreak is not a visitation, but a path that human beings follow through [ā¦]. Heartbreak is an indication of our sincerity: in a love relationship, in a lifeās work, in trying to learn a musical instrument, in the attempt to shape a better more generous self. Heartbreak is the beautifully helpless side of love and affection and is [an] essence and emblem of care⦠[W]e use the word heartbreak as if it only occurs when things have gone wrong: an unrequited love, a shattered dream⦠But heartbreak may be the very essence of being human, of being on the journey from here to there, and of coming to care deeply for what we find along the way.ā
ā David Whyte, Consolations (via exhaled-spirals)
āI have come to realise it doesnāt make much sense to ponder the meaning of life; that it is a question induced by melancholy; that an answer is not really what we are looking for. Does it not disappear the minute we find joy again? Who, when finally seized by a great desire to love, to dance, to work, still wonders: what is the meaning of life?ā
ā Belinda Cannone, Petit Ć©loge de l'embrassement (via exhaled-spirals)
some things:
1. read woodsonās āred at the boneā (set in brooklyn) while in brooklyn. it was surreal. paused every so often to look through / imagine life in the brownstones. iris could be any one of those girls in there.
2. nearly cried everyday when black people passing on the street would compliment / show me love. so so tender.
3. thereās something bittersweet, and raw, about being in a city that feels like home.
your blog isnāt fully developed until youre 25