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👀 currently revamping this blog. hello.
ARCHIVED & MOVED HERE .
👀 currently revamping this blog. hello.
hey, sorry i haven’t been around in a second. i’ve been vibing on THIS BLOG if you’d like to follow !!!
hey, sorry i haven’t been around in a second. i’ve been vibing on THIS BLOG if you’d like to follow !!!
it really is all about love i think. like that’s our whole purpose
«the stone inside you still
hasn’t hit bottom.»
As long as I am acting out of love, I feel I am doing best I know how.
constantly thinking about boris in his tsh verse
“A great sorrow, and one that I am only beginning to understand: we don’t get to choose our own hearts. We can’t make ourselves want what’s good for us or what’s good for other people. We don’t get to choose the people we are.”
he looks like shit and this has been going on for hours. the whole room smells of warm vodka and kerosene from the heater perched and glowing menacingly in the corner, and somehow that only added to the unfolding hazy, erratic night. boris barely remembers how they got to this point. some gloomy subject, somewhere deep within their very element, and now it's just hysterical. there weren't any rules to this game, he soon realized, having never played it before. ( take a shot. ) only your experience and being able to remember ' never have i ever ' or as boris calls it ' i have never. ' ❛ okay okay okay, my turn— ❜ he says through laughter, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ❛ i have never sucked someone off for a cigarette. ❜ boris looks expectant, the mischievous cat like quirk of the brow. ❛ eh? ❜ @godbanes / plotted.
* 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒 which could break my fall from happiness to misery; it was as the stroke of lightning ——— sudden & entire. / sel. priv. multiverse thief oc. by AJ.
spare plots ? 🤲🏻
there truly is nothing more Aesthetic TM than the image of boris tripping on acid while missa papae marcelli: kyrie plays in the bg
𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 ? what if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly - held common virtues and instead straight towards a 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 - 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫? if your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you?
ind. & sel. boris pavlikovsky of donna tartt’s the goldfinch rp. loved by laure, est. oct. 2018 // personal blogs, do not reblog!
the goldfinch by donna tartt: boris pavlikovsky. “Well—I have to say I personally have never drawn such a sharp line between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ as you. For me: that line is often false. The two are never disconnected. One can’t exist without the other. As long as I am acting out of love, I feel I am doing best I know how. But you—wrapped up in judgment, always regretting the past, cursing yourself, blaming yourself, asking ‘what if,’ ‘what if.’ ‘Life is cruel.’ ‘I wish I had died instead of.’ Well—think about this. What if all your actions and choices, good or bad, make no difference to God? What if the pattern is pre-set? No no—hang on—this is a question worth struggling with. What if our badness and mistakes are the very thing that set our fate and bring us round to good? What if, for some of us, we can’t get there any other way?
oops dropped back into my tgf shit hello ??
i hate it when people ask me “what’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?” like. awfully bold of you to assume i’ve reached peak dumbass.