alabaster;

pauline | 24 sporadically multifandom

[toastbutteregg]

[spokenworded-deactivated2025080]

Loving Vincent (2017) dir. Dorota Kobiela, Hugh Welchman

[idontwikeit]

“““You’re not a monster,” I said. But I lied. What I really wanted to say was that a monster is not such a terrible thing to be. From the Latin root monstrum, a divine messenger of catastrophe, then adapted by the Old French to mean an animal of myriad origins: centaur, griffin, satyr. To be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once.””

—

— Ocean Vuong, from “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous”

(via kssndros)

[it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined]

One of my all time favourite essays, it’s absolutely worth reading the whole thing

[grot3squ3]

if you were a deity, what would you be the god of

[sombrekisses]

These sounded poetic together :)

[headspace-hotel]

You Are Not Wasting Time; It Was Given To You As A Gift, Freely and Generously; Is Rain Wasted Because It Falls On Gardens, Grass, Disgruntled Birds, and Umbrellas All The Same?

[writingdotcoffee]

“…fiction gives us empathy: it puts us inside the minds of other people, gives us the gift of seeing the world through their eyes. Fiction is a lie that tells us true things, over and over.”

— Neil Gaiman

[gaysie]

“in front of my mother and my sisters, i pretend love is cheap and vulgar. i act like it’s a sin– i pretend that love is for women on a dark path. but at night i dream of a love so heavy it makes my spine throb– i dream up a lover who makes love like he is separating salt from water.”

— Salma Deera, “salt”  (via talkingoutsoft)

[givemearmstopraywith]

me after sitting in the sun for ten minutes: love is real

[macrolit]

To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.

Arundhati Roy, The Cost of Living (via macrolit)

[ashstfu]

sometimes being a girl is just about being a little sleepy all the time

[asablehart]

you’re iron deficient, queens

[creekbeds]

you’re such an idiot. i will literally kiss you on the mouth.

[thevastnessof]

/sees fossils of older dinosaur and baby dinosaurs intertwined in a way that implies the adult died crouching over the nest trying to protect them from a natural disaster/ oh my god it died crouching over the nest trying to protect them from a natural disaster 😭

[thevastnessof]

it’s about the permanency of an act made in love (or the closest thing they could experience) by an individual animal that existed before our farthest human ancestors ever walked the earth. love is real and time didn’t let them be forgotten

[morriganwarrior]

If I remember correctly, in Pompeii, there is a woman trying to shield a child with her own body and there is a man like 2-3 feet away, with his back to the doorway and arms outstretched like he was a second away from shielding the woman and child. It may have been a grandmother and her neighbor shielding the grandson, or a mother shielding her daughter as her husband ran to her, or even two elder siblings rushing to protect the baby. While we do not know the specifics, we know two people cared so much about somebody else that when it seemed the world was on fire and the gods had abandoned them, they were still willing to die trying to save someone else.

I think about that every so often.

[plumstreet]

WHERE is that poem about that person learning all about their partners hyperfixation before getting dumped the last line is like “love is a stack of books on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end” I need it to feel whole help me please

[cielosky]

NYT Tiny Love Stories, 2/11/2020

A Bookmark Near the End

He loves history. He wanted to write a biography of John Quincy Adams. I, shamefully, knew almost nothing about John Quincy Adams, so I went online and bought every biography of him I could find. One day, he called me, claiming that we wouldn’t work out long term. He said he loved me but that we had different interests. “What does love mean to you?” I said. “That’s an impossible question,” he replied. I, however, find love to be quite simple. Love is the stack of biographies on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end. — Julia Nicole Camp 

[grocerystore-gf]

sleep is so nice like…girl…bye

[studylustre]

stop asking me wyd i’m literally always thinking about love and how it touches every aspect of the human experience

[zonnesproetje]

im just a normal girl . i sit near a body of water and immediately experience the entire range of human emotions