noli me tangerine

mim | she/they | @mimbing on ao3 send lawyers, guns, and money

[adz]

jenny holzer: the rollercoaster experience

[adz]

[madatmost]

Sirene song 2021, Ragnhild May

[syancee]

“You read something which you thought only happened to you, and you discover that it happened 100 years ago to Dostoyevsky. This is a very great liberation for the suffering, struggling person, who always thinks that he is alone. This is why art is important. Art would not be important if life were not important, and life is important.”

— James Baldwin, Conversations with James Baldwin (via 5139321966)

[bitterdollie]

I don’t feel like a real person. I just feel like a collection of what people want me to be and various mental disorders.

[the2headedcalf-archive]

You know that Ada Limón poem where she’s like “i can’t help it i love the way men love”? my dad recently confessed to me that he became a shoemaker because they buried my grandma shoeless

oh.......................................

[urlocalchangeling]

Accident Report in the Tall, Tall Weeds - Ada Limón

[audientvoid13]

“Overthinker” – Nicolae Scarlat, 2020

[upward-bound]

“Cut a chrysalis open, and you will find a rotting caterpillar. What you will never find is that mythical creature, half caterpillar, half butterfly, a fit emblem of the human soul, for those whose cast of mind leads them to seek such emblems. No, the process of transformation consists almost entirely of decay.”

— Pat Barker, Regeneration  

[thesarosperiod]

who gave oscar wilde permission to write stuff like “death must be so beautiful. to lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. to have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. to forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace. you can help me. you can open for me the portals of death’s house, for love is always with you, and love is stronger than death is” with such ease? to touch my soul so casually? like who gave him all that talent and can i have some

[voirlvmer]

“i’m interested in death rituals. maybe that’s a weird thing to say. when i say interested i mean, i’ve compiled a list. on it are mourning practices gathered across time & continents. it’s long & oddly comforting how no one knows a damn thing about what follows. i won’t share it with you, only say, evidence suggests neanderthals were the first hominids to bury their dead. also, i’ll say they didn’t possess a written language, which points toward internment as a form of document. the body is ink in the earth. the grave marker, a gathering together of text.”

— sam sax, “Bury,” from bury it (via bostonpoetryslam)

[classicbooks101]

“The slow constellations wheeled on. It would be dawn and then sun-up after a while and he would be hungry. But that would be to-morrow and now he was only cold, and walking would cure that. His breathing was easier now and he decided to get up and go on, and then he found that he had been asleep because he knew it was almost dawn, the night almost over. He could tell that from the whippoorwills. They were everywhere now among the dark trees below him, constant and inflectioned and ceaseless, so that, as the instant for giving over to the day birds drew nearer and nearer, there was no interval at all between them. He got up. He was a little stiff, but walking would cure that too as it would the cold, and soon there would be the sun. He went on down the hill, toward the dark woods within which the liquid silver voices of the birds called unceasing – the rapid and urgent beating of the urgent and quiring heart of the late spring night. He did not look back.”

— Barn Burning, William Faulkner 

[kafk-a]

Joanna Klink, from The Nightfields

[memoriastoica]

San Francisco, California.

Circa 1962.

[honeytuesday]

mutuals we are holding hands and rotating at unimaginably fast speeds

[skull-designs]

Come bench with me.

St Bartholomew’s, Burstow, Surrey

[harpij]

Frank Papé illustration for Thaïs, Anatole France, 1890

[sarcasm-and-glitter]

“‘How much do you know about Shakespeare,’ I once asked a friend who has committed much of her life to studying the Bard. She replied, ‘Not as much as he knows about me.’ Remember this the next time someone tells you literature is useless.”

— Don’t Turn Away From the Art of Life, by Arnold Weinstein (New York Times, Feb. 2016)

[roscolux]

like not to act like it's 2014 but hamlet was written like a million years ago and people on here are still like "that's my friend hamlet". marveling at this and loving it

[roscolux]

hamlet from the play hamlet: [insane little soliloquy]

average tumblr user: rest in peace king you would've loved ice coffee