Corner of Nowhere

9th Circle.

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

A Place in the Sun (George Stevens, 1951)

[s-akata]

— @s-akata

[mournfulroses]

Clarice Lispector, from a letter in translation to Elisa Lispector, featured in All Letters of Clarice Lispector

[regardintemporel]

Cécile Baldewyns - Darknees, 2023

[s-akata]

"I had a dream. In fact, it was the night I met you. In the dream, there was our world, and the world was dark because there weren't any robins and the robins represented love. And for the longest time, there was just this darkness. And all of a sudden, thousands of robins were set free, and they flew down and brought this blinding light of love. And it seemed like that love would be the only thing that would make any difference. And it did. So, I guess it means there is trouble 'til the robins come."

BLUE VELVET (1986) dir. David Lynch

[cosechadehuellas]

Pierre Jamet

La siesta de Dina 1939

[samanthasdarkroom]

The end of the beauty of it all

Self portrait, 35mm film

[derangedrhythms]

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning; but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply, And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain For unremembered lads that not again Will turn to me at midnight with a cry. Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, Yet knows its boughs more silent than before: I cannot say what loves have come and gone, I only know that summer sang in me A little while, that in me sings no more.

Edna St. Vincent Millay, from ‘The Harp-Weaver and Other Poems’

[baptisedinblackwater]

mk, 7 feb 2026

[s-akata]

[philomena-famulok]

©Philomena Famulok

Dark is the night for all

[rounni-deactivated20250514]

[unknown-henry-blog]

[musenemesis]

ph Magdalena Lamri

[389]

NONTEMPORARY

[s-akata]

What terribly monstrous things beginnings are. How quickly they turn into revered memories.

The texture of your dress, worn with quiet intrigue and loneliness. Your cold and rose-coloured cheeks, the heavy breathing filled with worry and need.

It cascades all over me; Every week feels like the week before and the never after. Your sun collapsed my light, and I am still here, burning, lost in metaphor.

— @s-akata

[vixvaporub]

Kagurabachi by Takeru Hokazono – Chapter 43 ○ Fulfill