a dream within a dream @marvelloustide - Tumblr Blog

Katherine Mansfield, in a diary entry dated 14 October 1922, from Letters and Journals of Katherine Mansfield

But good God, what's wrong with me, after all? What am I missing? Why this emptiness, this nostalgia? What is this anxiety, as if I only loved something I didn’t know?

Clarice Lispector, in a letter to Fernando Sabino, from Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector

academic-vampire

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔠𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔯

mournfulroses

Fyodor Dostoevsky, from a letter featured in Letters of Fyodor Michailovitch Dostoevsky to his Family & Friends

petaltexturedskies

Sylvia Plath, in a diary entry dated 15 June 1951, from The Unabridged Journals

metamorphesque

It’s strange to think that long before I had a name or a heartbeat, I existed in some shadowed, elemental way. Women are born with all the eggs they'll ever have, and these begin forming while they're still in the womb. So when my mother was just a fetus, the egg that would become me was already inside her. That means my grandmother carried not just my mother, but the beginning of me as well. For a fleeting moment, the three of use shared one body, and went through life together, layered like nesting dolls.

2productive

I always loved how back in the day before cellphones, people were unreachable if they weren’t at home. You can call but I won’t be there to answer. You can leave a message but you don’t know how long it’ll be until I hear it. You don’t know if I’m home, but you will have to make the trip to come to my house and knock on the door, hoping I’ll be there. And if I’m not…you can’t reach me!! Now that everyone has a cellphone the expectation of being reachable 24/7 is so disastrous. And let’s not even get into read receipts. I think one of the worst times of my inner peace is when I had an apple watch and suddenly every text and phone call and notification was on my freaking wrist, even if my phone was giving the illusion of distance by being in my pocket or bag or charging in another room. I stopped using it in 2022 and I’d rather eat a jean jacket with no water than ever be so connected again. “oh you can just turn off notifications!” not the point.

academic-vampire

“…𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔶 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔯…”

-Wallace Stevens, “Sunday Morning”

metamorphesque

musings on July

"NW" Zadie Smith, "the Hands of Friendship" in Yerevan (@metamorphesque). "Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë (@flowerytale), Franz Kafka’s Diaries (@hungryfictions), "Summer night by the beach" Edvard Munch, "A Magic Mountain" Czeslaw Milosz (tr by Czeslaw Milosz and Lillian Vallee), "Answer July" Emily Dickinson, "Four Sunflowers Gone to Seed" Vincent van Gogh, The Diaries of Franz Kafka (@shisasan)