[shesbeenmarooned]

[couseland]

FAVOURITE MUSIC VIDEOS 2 / ∞ Twin Flame by Weyes Blood (2023). Dir. Ambar Navarro.

[shesbeenmarooned]

Sylvia Plath x Francesca Woodman

[manitat]

Marissa Nadler & Milky Burgess - Omie Wise

[shesbeenmarooned]

Up thinking about pretty lyrics as usual

[the1920sinpictures]

1929 c. Clara Bow gives her cook an affectionate hug in her kitchen. From Vamps & Flappers of 1910s, 1920s, FB.

[metamorphesque]

On Not Wanting To Live, E. M. Cioran (translated by Ilinca Zarifopol-Johnston)

[shesbeenmarooned]

the beautiful, refined poetry nick cave produces when he's sad vs. whatever the hell this is when he's horny

[shesbeenmarooned]

Heard "rabies bites" and "haircuts" in the same sentence on the van the other day, so I'm about to write a Nicole Dollanganger song

[shesbeenmarooned]

Time and again I, too, have felt so full of luminous torrents that I could burst - burst with forms much more beautiful than those which are put up in frames and sold for a stinking fortune. And I, too, said nothing, showed nothing; I didn't open my mouth, I didn't repaint my half of the world. I was ashamed. I was afraid, and I swallowed my shame and my fear. I said to myself: You are mad! What's the meaning of these waves, these floods, these outbursts?

Helene Cixous, The Laugh of the Medusa

[fionaapplerocks]

Visit Original Link

I recorded some English rain through an open window, and then this happened

[ecultured]

nina simone photographed by michael ochs in 1967

[tiremascriancasdasala]

Maravilhosa!

[gacougnol]

Alissa Rossi

Mary's Paradise

[mothercain]

Assimilation

@silkenweinberg

[crucifiedlovers]

As I was staring at the void in front of me, a touch — immediately violent and excessive — joined me to that void. I saw that void and saw nothing, but it, the void, was embracing me.

Georges Bataille, "The Roof of the Temple" from The Collected Poems of Georges Bataille (trans. Mark Spitzer)

[crucifiedlovers]

I let myself be absorbed into this unutterable barrenness—into this black night hour of the being's core no less a desert nor less hostile than the empty skies.

Georges Bataille, 'Madame Edwarda' (trans. Austryn Wainhouse)

[crucifiedlovers]

Terror on the edge of the grave is divine and I sink into the terror whose child I am.

Georges Bataille, 'My Mother' (trans. Austryn Wainhouse)