Phantasmagorical Tranquility

A ghost/writer. IG: hamzadoesnotexist

[somnambulanthaze]

“To be something is inexorably not to be all the other things; the confused intuition of this truth has induced mankind to imagine that being nothing is more than being something and is, in some way, to be everything.”

- Jorge Luis Borges

[somnambulanthaze]

I love you, my sun, my life, I love your eyes — closed — all the little tails of your thoughts, your stretchy vowels, your whole soul from head to heels.

- Vladimir Nabokov

[somnambulanthaze]

- Plainwater: Essays and Poetry, Anne Carson

[somnambulanthaze]

- Plainwater: Essays and Poetry, Anne Carson

[somnambulanthaze]

- Plainwater: Essays and Poetry, Anne Carson

[somnambulanthaze]

- Plainwater: Essays and Poetry, Anne Carson

[somnambulanthaze]

- Plainwater: Essays and Poetry, Anne Carson

[somnambulanthaze]

- Virginia Woolf, The Waves

[somnambulanthaze]

I touch nothing. I see nothing. We may sink and settle on the waves. The sea will drum in my ears. The white petals will be darkened with sea water. They will float for a moment and then sink. Rolling me over the waves will shoulder me under. Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me.

Virginia Woolf, The Waves

[somnambulanthaze]

But when you come everything changes. The cups and saucers changed when you came in this morning. There can be no doubt, I thought, pushing aside the newspaper, that our mean lives, unsightly as they are, put on splendour and have meaning only under the eyes of love.

Virginia Woolf, The Waves

[somnambulanthaze]

- Virginia Woolf, The Waves

[somnambulanthaze]

How strange to oar one's way through crowds seeing life through hollow eyes, burning eyes.

Virginia Woolf, The Waves

[somnambulanthaze]

If you hold to Nature, to the simplicity that is in her, to the small detail that scarcely one man sees, which can so unexpectedly grow into something great and boundless; if you have this love for insignificant things and seek, simply as one who serves, to win the confidence of what seems to be poor: then everything will become easier for you, more coherent and somehow more conciliatory, not perhaps in the understanding, which lags wondering behind, but in your innermost consciousness, wakefulness and knowing. You are so young, you have not even begun, and I would like to beg you to have patience with everything that is unsolved in your heart and to try to cherish the questions themselves, like closed rooms and like books written in a very strange tongue. Do not search now for the answers which cannot be given you because you could not live them. It is a matter of living everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, one distant day live right into the answer. Perhaps indeed you carry within yourself the possibility of shaping and forming, as a particularly pure and blessed kind of life; train yourself for it -- but take what comes in complete trust, if only it comes from your will, from some inner need of yours, take it to yourself and do not hate anything.

Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke

[meladoodle]

hope this isnt too nsfw for you guys but id really like to hold a hand

[holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe]

““I had two longings and one was fighting the other,” [Jean] Rhys once wrote in her journal. “I wanted to be loved and I wanted to be always alone.”

— The Recovering: Intoxication and Its Aftermath, Leslie Jamison

[the-cinder-fields]

Erwin Rudolf Weiss, The Kiss, 1898

[hirokazukoreeda]

タンポポ (Tampopo) 1985, dir. Jûzô Itami.