big dreamer

24 ❦ diary entries + prophecy

[pharmakis]

doechii - wait (intro, conversation w a friend's aunt) "one day this [conversation] will be important"

[not100bees]

I cannot stress enough that I genuinely actually believe people would order doordash during The Purge. I know I speak hyperbolically a lot of the time because I'm fun and charming like that but I am 100% serious literally actually serious but I believe that people would order doordash during The Purge.

[sacred-portal]

[milksockets]

french photo magazine novembre 2001

[dogpuppy]

[guillotinafem]

evil twin of this post

[ymutate]

Annie Ovenden (British Artist, born 1945)

"Murmuration over Lanhydrock Park", 2020.

Oil on Canvas, 61 × 91 cm.

[goslinggf]

5pm on a lovely winter's day

[ryebreadgf]

From How to Be Perfect by Ron Padgett

[dogpuppy]

[bobbole]

Diego Rivera, Indian Warrior

[iamheavymeta-lll]

[5h4rn]

vintage Yuva magazine covers

Artwork from Vaddadi Papaiah for Yuva (Telugu magazine)

[anthropoetics]

so i just learned about the ios camera processing, and i was going through some apps that do the exact opposite. i'm finding joy in taking pictures again!

[anthropoetics]

a little more on this! ios camera basically puts together buffered frames (from before and after you take a picture) and polishes it. that's why pictures look so artificial. differently from apps that takes pictures on raw mode, which is well... raw. no polish and a single frame. it gives a film vibe

[anthropoetics]

hiii! for those asking, luma on app store (it might like a little weird when you take the picture but it looks great after!!) it's the only free app i could find

[anthropoetics]

new year is almost here. a knock at the door; the wind. the flourishing. the gore. as bjork said: hope is a muscle. i want to float amidst trees branches and dig myself into the earth and scream from there. don’t become a phantom again. last year i abstained, this year i devour. i’ll let every story, every experience cling to me like wrapping paper around melted candy, not everything, just enough, just a glimpse. like an anemone, my dark core will be part of the beauty. a black hole where not even i comprehend, but it’s all part of me. 

[darkcomedies]

my understanding and interpretation of Mary Oliver’s “Wild Geese” cannot be untangled from the fact that it was originally published to follow her poem about childhood sexual abuse, “Rage”

[darkcomedies]

i just don’t think it was unintentional that these were presented flush against each other

[iphigeniacomplex]

[Transcripts:

Rage by Mary Oliver

You are the dark song of the morning; serious and slow, you shave, you dress, you descend the stairs in your public clothes and drive away, you become the wise and powerful one who makes all the days possible in the world. But you were also the red song in the night, stumbling through the house to the child's bed, to the damp rose of her body, leaving your bitter taste. And forever those nights snarl the delicate machinery of the days. When the child's mother smiles you see on her cheekbones a truth you will never confess; and you see how the child grows— timidly, crouching in corners. Sometimes in the wide night you hear the most mournful cry, a ravished and terrible moment. In your dreams she's a tree that will never come to leaf— in your dreams she's a watch you dropped on the dark stones till no one could gather the fragments— in your dreams you have sullied and murdered, and dreams do not lie.

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

]

[carnis-insanis]

[petaltexturedskies]

Here are my resolutions for the next 3 months; the next lap of the year. To have none. Not to be tied. To be free and kindly with myself, not goading it to parties: to sit rather privately reading in the studio. To stop irritation by the assurance that nothing is worth irritation. Sometimes to read, sometimes not to read. To go out yes—but stay at home in spite of being asked. As for clothes, to buy good ones.

Virginia Woolf, in a diary entry dated 2 January 1931, from The Diary of Virginia Woolf Vol. V: 1936-1941