Probably Aestethics

Big personal vibes here

[beguines]

Falling in love and identifying birds have similar effects. Normal life is altered; every experience heightened; what was mundane begins to explode with meaning. You think birds are just birds—undifferentiated fluttering, then you find one magnified in your lens. You recognize its unique markings, lines, and color. Your heart pounds. It is a cerulean warbler. It is your new mate. I believe both things have equal power to change your life.

Debbie Blue, Consider the Birds: A Provocative Guide to Birds of the Bible

[thehopefulquotes]

“I’m homesick all the time … I just don’t know where home is. There’s this promise of happiness out there. I know it. I even feel it sometimes. But it’s like chasing the moon. Just when I think I have it, it disappears into the horizon.”

— Sarah Addison Allen

[officialyofficial]

You’re not real you’re just a ghost,

And I’ll remember you the most.

[feral-ballad]

Molly McCully Brown, from Places I’ve Taken my Body: Essays

[macrolit]

“… we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.”

— 1Q84, Haruki Murakami

[officialyofficial]

.

[feral-ballad]

I liked hell. I liked to go there alone, relieved to lie in the wreckage, ruined, physically undone. The worst had happened. What else could hurt me then? I thought it was the worst, thought nothing worse could come. Then nothing did, and no one.

Marie Howe, from Magdalene: Poems; “Magdalene: The Addict”

[starlit-pathways]

What goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives.

—Tales From Earthsea: Dragonfly, by Ursula Le Guin

[spellchased-deactivated20210321]

moon, magic, and you | photos & art by @indg0

[freepeople]

[su-n-s-e-t]

[geopsych]

Bird bath catching the sunrise this morning.

[andantegrazioso-deactivated2018]

[officialyofficial]

Will our world end in grief or elation

Trepidation or guilt?

It's all for naught

The world's gone to pot

And no heaven's waitin' on me

But, when I'm down where it's warm

Would you still call me yours?

I think I'd still like to be

[nobrashfestivity]

Yoho Tsuda, Tree with Yellow Leaves,1980, 

Chromogenic print, 

Metropolitan Museum.

[fanny-hs]

[morgan-lugo]