august honey

twenty-something. trans male. writer. musician. artist. lover. fighter.

[coltre]

[unit-02]

[ethnicbrat-222]

let’s bring this back ✨✨

[hifas]

Fabiola by Francis Alÿs

Fabiola is an installation of over 300 painted copies and reproductions of fourth century Saint-Fabiola, collected by Francis Alÿs from flea markets and antique shops throughout Europe and America in the last 20 years. They are all based on a now lost original painting by french artist Jean-Jacques Henner made in the nineteenth century.

[fohk]

“It’s a strange world”

Blue Velvet (1986) David Lynch

[cocvino-deactivated20160219]

[cache-e]

“I feel very small. I don't understand. I have so much courage, fire, energy, for many things, yet I get so hurt, so wounded by small things.”

Anaïs Nin, from nearer the moon: the previously unpublished unexpurgated diary,1937-1939

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Isabel Allende, The House of the Spirits

[librarycard]

[looks for you in everything] [finds you there]

[wovi]

*

mortifying ordeal, etc. 🕊

(claire schwartz / coco mellors)

[wovi]

white oleander (2002) dir. peter kosminsky

[between2sujuds]

[lone-nyctophile]

- Beau Taplin

[thoughtkick]

“I used to dislike being sensitive. I thought it made me weak. But take away that single trait, and you take away the very essence of who I am. You take away my conscience, my ability to empathize, my intuition, my creativity, my deep appreciation for the little things, my vivid inner life, my deep awareness of others’ pain, and my passion for it all.”

— Unknown

[cornbreadlesbian]

[heavyrain-dc]

“Promise me not to hide yourself when you’re in pain, it’s unfair that we laughed together but you cried alone”

— Unknown

[luthienne]

Robert Walser, from Fairy Tales; "Thorn Rose, The Sleeping Beauty" (trans. from the German by Daniele Pantano and James Reidel)

[Text ID: At twilight, I would spend the time / thinking of how gentle you were and / sweet, and how wonderful it would be / to stir you, for me to look upon / you a little, to draw you toward me / tighter and tighter and you thinking / of me, that I am good enough.]

[soircieres]

— Vladimir Nabokov in a letter to his wife Véra, 8 July 1926.