Przybylski's Star

Classics, Astronomy, Poems, Conspiracy

[przybylskis-star]

Candle aesthetic moodboard

[intersectionalpraxis]

"Here are your tortured poets. All from Mahmoud Darwish to Dr. Refat Alareer to Khaled Juma, these are tortured poets. Tortured by longing for a home they can never return to, tortured by the world they were born to for BEING BORN. Palestine, home to the tortured poets department." [@/folkoftheshelf on X. April 20th, 2024.]

[przybylskis-star]

You would barely fit in the couch, but there you were, trying to squeeze yourself like a worm between the handles. You asked “Why are you staring?”

I stood there, soaking in your habitual eccentricities. You looked like a puzzle; to define you were unavailing. Our eyes met and you took my diverged reality into a single stream of time where nothing else existed but your quiet, sublime, eyes. It almost felt ruthless that you held my gaze. In that very moment, if death had passed me by, I would have embraced it like an old friend.

And I replied “Nothing.”

[przybylskis-star]

[przybylskis-star]

[americiumam]

reblog w the song lyrics in your head NOW. either stuck in yr head or what yr listening to

[przybylskis-star]

The water rises, trembling as it breathes You said you felt a quick shift in the breeze In the night they'll find you all alone With the color red surrounding your throat

[przybylskis-star]

Crippled Youth

I yearn to be asleep

Don't wake me if i weep

I'm the void of this world

I'm weary of this reality so gnarled

You say I'm selfish to mourn

The world of privilege borne

Oh! But you are blind to my thorns

You never heard the stir of storms

I could never find a way

I left everything quite gray

I could never stop disdain

In existence, I'm sooner slain

Now end the loop of my crippled youth

As I'm devoid of a million truth

[yesterdaysprint]

Eau Claire Leader, Wisconsin, May 18, 1917

[thatsbelievable]

[greeksblog]

|Life in the forest|

[a-hoe-for-dark-academia]

RIP William Shakespeare, you would have loved ‘mean girls’.

[przybylskis-star]

Imagine you are stuck in a time loop. You have to relive the same moments again and again with no end in sight. You are in Nietzsche's universe of eternal recurrence.

Given the choice to pick your moments from pure imagination, what would you pick?

[przybylskis-star]

[przybylskis-star]

In the void.

[bourbonmetaphors]

"I think we deserve

a soft epilogue, my love.

We are good people

and we've suffered enough."

– 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 # 4. 𝘯𝘪𝘬𝘬𝘢 𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘢 (𝘯.𝘵)

[lofeel]

[birdcagewalk]