fyodor dostoevsky (the brothers karamazov), charles bukowski (a vote for the gentle light)
czesław miłosz, from the poem "hope"
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
trying on a metaphor

blake kathryn
EXPECTATIONS
cherry valley forever
noise dept.
No title available

Andulka

gracie abrams
Claire Keane
untitled
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

★
Show & Tell
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

pixel skylines
No title available
official daine visual archive
Mike Driver
Misplaced Lens Cap
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@politically-literate
fyodor dostoevsky (the brothers karamazov), charles bukowski (a vote for the gentle light)
czesław miłosz, from the poem "hope"
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
The cats are like furry constellations They lap up the Milky Way
- Current 93, Abba Amma (Babylon Destroyer)
Illustration for these lyrics that I’ve always found evocative.
One of the major reasons we can never have any productive conversations about how men also struggle under the patriarchy is because people insist on dragging women into it and implying that it is their fault that men can't like wear pink or whatever
“Deep down inside her in fact is an animal gnawing away with its pointed teeth, and she has it shut away in a little box; but already she can see its fang through the fragile wall. So she quickly puts the box inside a slightly larger one, but the animal keeps gnawing away and so she goes and fetches a carton and then a bigger one and then a bigger one still, and every time she has the same childish feeling of happiness and the same sensation of staring into an abyss when fear rubs up against her.”
— Stig Dagerman, The Snake (trans. Laurie Thompson)
Ya Allah protect us from evil deeds.
how do you just get up and deal with the fact that there’s a last time for everything. there was a last time you sat on your dads shoulders and there was a last time your mom tucked you into bed. there’s going to be a last time you kiss your sister on the head and there’s going to be a last time you hug your best friend. there’s going to be a last time you feel exactly as you feel right now and there’s going to be a last time that person says i love you. i need to lay down
that there are first times waiting that they ended because I stopped asking for them because I no longer wished for them FCCKKK WHAT
“Nothing will wreck your life like wanting something that isn’t in it… I’m trying to be enough for this body: one heartbeat, flung like a shovel into the day.”
— Hala Alyan, from “September, a week in” (Thrush Poetry Journal, January 2020) (via Read a Little Poetry)
why do all the words sound heavier in my native language?
— @metamorphesque, Yoojin Grace Wuertz (Mother Tongue), Still Dancing: An Interview With Ilya Kaminsky (by Garth Greenwell), Jhumpa Lahiri (Translating Myself and Others), @lifeinpoetry
˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗
[ID: Quotes, a post, and a fragment of an interview about native languages. They are:
1. why do all the words sound heavier in my native language? scratch that. why did I choose to seek refuge in a language of another instead of training my tongue to bear the heaviness of my own? #i can never speak of how i feel in my native language #the words are too heavy to roll of my tongue 2. Yi writes: “It is hard to feel in an adopted language, yet it is impossible in my native language.“ As every bilingual person and translator knows, there are certain words—a feeling, a way of being—that is absent in one language but perfectly brought to life in another. A word that, by existing, gives permission to be. What if you need that which does not exist in your language? 3. [Q] And how did you start writing in English? [A] … I chose English because no one in my family or friends knew it; no one I spoke to could read what I wrote. I myself did not know the language. It was a parallel reality, an insanely beautiful freedom. It still is. 4. But a language, even a foreign language, is something so intimate that it enters inside of us despite the fissure. It becomes a part of our body, our soul. It takes root in the brain, it emerges from our mouths. In time, it nestles in the heart. 5. I write to you in a distant tongue. When I speak Spanish, I feel like I’m trying on shorts I know won’t fit. They might button up, but I muffin top, and I’m painfully aware. I slip on English like a nighty; I’m comfortable when it’s loose, it breathes with my body. It doesn’t hurt me, at least not always. – Angel Dominguez, from ”[Dear Diego],” Desgraciado
End ID.]
Dale Bailey, American Nightmares: The Haunted House Formula in American Popular Fiction
Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless
on love as conversation
alice oseman radio silence (via @liriostigre) \ bell hooks
kofi
Meditations in an Emergency, Cameron Awkward-Rich
Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib, from “And What Good Will Your Vanity Be When The Rapture Comes”
Judith L. Herman, Trauma and Recovery
you never get over your first love, not if its your best friend.