Dulce MarĂa Loynaz, tr. by James OâConnor, from Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems
[Text ID: âI am not I. I am barely my own shadow.â]
Cosimo Galluzzi
i don't do bad sauce passes
Claire Keane

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RMH
YOU ARE THE REASON
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Game of Thrones Daily
wallacepolsom
tumblr dot com
NASA
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dirt enthusiast

shark vs the universe
ojovivo

Discoholic đŞŠ
Sade Olutola
Mike Driver
styofa doing anything
Misplaced Lens Cap

seen from Canada
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@rihartna
Dulce MarĂa Loynaz, tr. by James OâConnor, from Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems
[Text ID: âI am not I. I am barely my own shadow.â]
Jasmin Lee Cori, The Emotionally Absent Mother: How to Recognize and Heal the Invisible Effects of Childhood Emotional Neglect
Eileen Myles, from âSmile,â in I Must Be Living Twice [ID in alt text]
Seriously thoughâŚ
Seriously thoughâŚ
Speak of her over my grave
And watch how she brings me to life.
"The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself."
-Friedrich Nietzsche
The Underrated Dark Academics:
Part I
⢠The Chaotic Dark Academic
Yes, dark academia is very pretty and put together but who cares? Skips classes to visit castles, always arrives late, has a mess of old paperbacks, pens and spilled ink, crumpled paper on their dark wooden table. Their head is messy, but their hands are messier with quotes from Shelley or Dickenson or just math calculations. Drinks black coffee half way and forgets the rest, swoopy curls, messy hair, mismatched socks, disorganised playlists, tangled headphones, hard core romantics. Never submits their essays on time but scores the highest.
⢠The Artsy Dark Academic
Fingers stained with navy blue or deep brown paint, figure drawing on coffee stained pages, obsessed with baroque art. Late night visits to art galleries and museums and staring intensely at the sculptures over the rim of the coffee cup. Loves rainy sunsets and gothic architecture, creates masterpieces in the last pages of their notebooks, shy smile, hides their works, messy fingers and brows furrowed with concentration while making a charcoal drawing in candle light.
[picture credit pinterest]
desi women in dark academia. think about it. desi women with elegant rings on their henna adorned hands. desi women who wear bindis and silver jhumkas in their daily life. desi women who sit with a cup of chai in the balcony, and write poems in desi languages. desi women who's payals can be heard tinkling from a metre away. desi women wearing beautiful lehengas. desi women who visit the museum to see statues. just desi women in dark academia
"There is only one thing valuable in art: the things you cannot explain." â Georges Braque â
I promise you donât need the pain. You donât need to punish yourself and you donât need the false sense of control. You deserve love and compassion and kindness and respect. Always and unconditionally.
During a lecture on epic poetry like the MahÄbhÄrata and Iliad in my first year of college, my professor said, âWhen the whole world dies, even when brick and mortar is destroyed, memory survives. It survives and lives on in generations to come. And literature carries that memory. All your geography, your economics, your psychology, theyâre all based on the memory of man, passed down generations after generations. These epic poems and literature we are studying right now is to remind us that we too will be memories one day. And therefore, let us be good memoriesâ and I think a piece of this lecture will live on in me wherever I go.
â franz kafka, letters to milena
I hate it when I talk wistfully about the ancient world and then people are like âyou wouldnât survive back thenâ yeah obviously I would die immediately but do you think achilles would be able to survive in the modern world if he had to send one polite email? no
That myth about how the face you wear in this life is the face of the person you loved most in your last life. What a beautiful concept.
To be remade in the image of your love. To love someone so much you become them.
I can love the girl staring back in the mirror much more easily, knowing that I did it once before. And that I loved her so fiercely I became her.
thinking abt when someone rests their head on your shoulder and suddenly youâre barely breathing because you donât want to disrupt their comfort by moving. will never get over how there can be so much love held in silent gestures.
Interactive :: House Saints by Hala Alyan