/a living sonnet/

25 | she/her | art | prose | poetry

[poetic--elixir]

Art is to console those who are broken by life. —Vincent Van Gogh

buy me a coffee

[somerabbitholes]

some essays to fill your time

Just a bunch of things I've read recently.

The Authoritarian Roots of India's Democracy by Tripurdaman Singh

Why is Everything So Ugly?

Casual Viewing by Will Tavlin

“You are Next”: Unmarried Urban Women in India and the “Marriage Talk” by Shilpa Phadke

Crossing Days by Thomas Dai

Inside the Indian Manosphere by Lhendup Bhatia

Optimism and Desperation by Camilla Grudova

Everyone is Cheating Their Way Through College by James Walsh

Blunt-Force Ethnic Credibility by Som-Mai Nguyen

When My Authentic is Your Exotic by Soniah Kamal

The discontent of Russia by Joy Neumeyer

On anti-political projects by Kat Rosenfield

'Correcting' historical wrongs is a slippery slope by Manu Pillai

[somerabbitholes]

some more:

Social media and the collapse of ritual

Where are Lucy's friends in Materialists?

Sociologism Literature by Harry Schiller

Passion and Palestine by Derek Penslar

New TV Novels by Lisa Borst

From Progress to Catastrophe by Perry Anderson

The Crane Wife by CJ Hauser

The Trouble with Friends by Weike Wang

[poetic--elixir]

Perhaps it is good to have a beautiful mind, but an even greater gift is to discover a beautiful heart.

— John Nash

[somerabbitholes]

parts of the sea

[somerabbitholes]

random book recs for you: the anthropologists by aysegul savas; the bee sting by paul murray; the netanyahus by joshua cohen; crossroads by jonathan franzen; dominion by tom holland; unruly waters by sunil amrith; himalaya by ed douglas

[somerabbitholes]

some more: latitudes of longing by shubhangi swarup, second hand time by svetlana alexievich, intimations by zadie smith, india's near east by avinash paliwal, the omnivore's dilemma by michael pollan

[somerabbitholes]

early summer afternoons

[metamorphesque]

poems to read while having breakfast at the heartbreak hotel

I know I am but summer to your heart (Sonnet XXVII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why (Sonnet XLIII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Time does not bring relief (Sonnet II) by Edna St. Vincent Millay 

I Am Not Yours by Sara Teasdale

[you fit into me] by Margaret Atwood

You by Carol Ann Duffy

Be Near Me by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Blessed be the spectacle by Lev St. Valentine

You Are Tired (I Think) by E.E. Cummings

Hope you're well. Please don't read this by Lev St. Valentine

To Say Dark Things by Ingeborg Bachmann

Lilichka by Vladimir Mayakovski

Love and Hate by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal

Sanctuary by Jean Valentine

the winter sun says fight by Peter Gizzi

The More Loving One by W. H. Auden

A Primer For The Small Weird Loves by Richard Siken

Dirty Valentine by Richard Siken

Morning by Frank O Hara

We Don't Know How To Say Goodbye by Anna Akhmatova

You'll Live, But I'll Not… by Anna Akhmatova

from “An Attempt at Jealousy” by Marina Tsvetaeva

The Last Toast by Anna Akhmatova

In Dream by Anna Akhmatova

Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath

Talking In Bed by Philip Larkin

He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven by W.B. Yeats

La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats

[somerabbitholes]

slowly settling into a routine involving reading essays, random book chapters, writing, and loads of coffee

[mangotalkies]

organised all my books today - a day well spent

[etherealacademia]

corners of my messy room

[poetic--elixir]

What do you study?

hi, i recently completed my postgrad in economics.

[poetic--elixir]

There are many things you can lie your way through; poetry is not one of them.

—Nicole Lyons

[somerabbitholes]

i finally bought a chair and can now use the table in my room

[somerabbitholes]

i bought a rug and now i sit sprawled on it like a cat

[poetic--elixir]

slow down, you crazy child

new playlist alert ♡ go, save it !!

[reveuseinflorence]

"Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood."

- George Orwell, 1984

[reveuseinflorence]

time has no compassion on the sorrows of the soul, yet it heals all wounds