Rood Weeskind

ik speelde met de maan en de maan behekste mij

[mournfulroses]

Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a diary entry featured in Rapture & Melancholy; The Diaries of Edna St. Vincent Millay

[surqrised]

“I think you lost all interest in this world. You were disappointed and discouraged, and lost interest in everything. So you abandoned your physical body. You went to a world apart and you’re living a different kind of life there. In a world inside you.”

— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

[woedodendron]

Ben Styer, “Melody for Walk to the Reservoir”

[weltenwellen]

Ugochukwu Damian Okpara, from "Notes on Desire"

[poetry-is-an-atmosphere]

“And you tried to change, didn’t you? Closed your mouth more. Tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake… You can’t make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that. And if he wants to leave, then let him leave. You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.”

— Warsan Shire, For Women Who Are Difficult To Love (via hello-lolo)

[dukhoiada]

Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (Тіні забутих предків), dir. Sergei Parajanov, 1965

[stygianroses]

[metamorphesque]

to the person in the bell jar...

Sylvia Plath, from ‘The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath’ / Vilhelm Hammershøi / Nicole Krauss, from ‘The History of Love’ / Ramon Casas / Joy Harjo, from ‘Speaking Tree’ / D S (saatchiart) / Fyodor Dostoevsky, from ‘The Idiot’ / Aleardo Terzi / Sylvia Plath, from ‘The Bell Jar’

buy me a coffee

[megairea]

“The night was deserted, the moon waning, earth smelled of the last rain. I whispered: memory hurts wherever you touch it,”

— George Seferis, from Memory I (tr. by Edmund Keeley & Philip Sherrard)

[megairea]

“There is nothing I can do nothing you can do what can the wound do with the knife on the way to it?”

— Nizar Qabbani, from Between Us

[megairea]

“I am the oldest capital of sadness…”

— Nizar Qabbani, from “your body is my map”

[luthienne]

nikki giovanni, from “habits” / daniela tieni / jeanette winterson, why be happy when you could be normal?

[weltenwellen]

Czeslaw Milosz, New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001

[afrouif]

Gustav Klimt

[megairea]

“Death underlies every living gesture. We are born dead, we live dead, and we enter death already dead. Composed of living cells and in a state of permanent dissolution, we are made of death.”

— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (tr. by Margaret Jull Costa)

[homo-infimus]

“I saw all the mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me.”

— Jorge Luis Borges  

[met-european-sculpture]

Piece, Metropolitan Museum of Art: European Sculpture and Decorative Arts

Purchase by subscription, 1909 Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY Medium: Bobbin lace

http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/218571