μίμησις

xx. infp-t.

[lunamonchtuna]

— Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks 1964-1980 (via lunamonchtuna)

[unefemmemapparut]

She is a writer; a born writer. Everything she feels and hears and sees is not fragmentary and separate; it belongs together as writing.

Virginia Woolf

[weltenwellen]

Adonis, tr. by Khaled Mattawa, Selected Poems

[firstfullmoon]

Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary, August 18th 1921

[text ID: And so this August is wasted.]

[flowerytale]

Helen Oyeyemi, from “White Is for Witching”  

[roadmotel]

Cathy Linh Che, Go Forget Your Father

[luthienne]

Alex Dimitrov, from Love and Other Poems; "Love"

[Text ID: I love that instant when an arc of light passes through a room and I'm reminded that everything really is moving. // I love August and its sadness. // I love Sunday for that, too.]

[sheabutterbitch]

I love women. Platonically, romantically, sexually, communally. I love women. I want to be surrounded by women all the time.

[underwelmed]

sophia ippoliti

[shesnake]

The Handmaiden (2016) dir. Park Chan-wook // Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019) dir. Céline Sciamma

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Nostos: Il ritorno (Franco Piavoli, 1989)

[linkinmoon]

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

[memoryslandscape-deactivated202]

“I have no way of telling what I miss I am only the one who misses it”

— W.S. Merwin, from “After the Voices,” The Moon Before Morning (Copper Canyon Press, 2014)

[tiredbtw]

*spends all of my time alone* perfect! but why am i crazy

[pusluktalaratlasi]

pink hues

[antigonies]

“I—how I destroy myself on even the least of the sweetest things—”

— Natalie Diaz, from Postcolonial Love Poem; “Waist and Sway”

[karnerblues]

Virginia Woolf’s working table, photographed by Gisèle Freund (1965)