onioncheeserings

walking contradiction

[the-grassy-hill]

im NOT feeling shrimptastic im going to KRILL myself

[mademoiseellllee]

my love language is making you the only person i don't ignore on days i dont want to speak to anyone

[havingapoemwithyou]

Goatsong by Leila Chatti

[existential-celestial]

Margaret Atwood, from “Variations on The Word Sleep” in Selected Poems II:1976-1986

[soracities]

“From the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids her beauty made a slave of me.”

— Adonis, from ‘Transformations of the Lover’, The Pages of Day and Night (trans. Samuel Hazo)

[sixth-extinction]

“Made around 1900 from the beak of a female huia, this brooch is a reminder of the tragic loss of huia and other birds taken by collectors. As they became rarer, their value increased.”

From the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa.

[radical-revolution]

[lesivresses-deactivated20260119]

[ryan-sometimes]

Paramore was right. Hard times

[dogpuppy]

[weltenwellen]

Wildness Before Something Sublime Leila Chatti

[cosmonautroger]

David Lynch, Oh Darling Please Come Home, 2010

[qifrei]

THE SECRET WORLD OF ARRIETTY (2010)

dir. Hiromasa Yonebayashi

[onioncheeserings]

"I can't let go because Louise might still be on the other end of the rope."

Written on the Body. Jeanette Winterson

[onioncheeserings]

"'Don't you think it's strange that life, described as so rich and full, a camel-trail of adventure, should shrink to this coin-sized world? A head on one side, a story on the other. Someone you loved and what happened. That's all there is when you dig in your pockets. The most significant thing is someone else's face. What else is embossed on your hands but her?'"

Written on the Body. Jeanette Winterson

[onioncheeserings]

"Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. What then kills love? Only this: Neglect. Not to see you when you stand before me. Not to think of you in the little things. Not to make the road wide for you, the table spread for you. To choose you out of habit not desire, to pass the flower seller without a thought. To leave the dishes unwashed, the bed unmade, to ignore you in the mornings, make use of you at night. To crave another while pecking your cheek. To say your name without hearing it, to assume it is mine to call."

Written on the Body. Jeanette Winterson

[onioncheeserings]

"I raise my head to the door and think I will see you in the frame. I know it is your voice in the corridor but when I run outside the corridor is empty. There is nothing I can do that will make any difference. The last word was yours."

Written on the Body. Jeanette Winterson