rin

an ode to you.

[cinemaronin]

Like Grains of Sand (1995)

渚のシンドバッド  Like Grains of Sand (1995)  direcred by Ryosuke Hashiguchi

[meruz]

i watched kore-eda's recent film Monster this past week and i truly.. cannot stop thinking about it. maybe my favorite kore-eda film yet

[aquilamoki]

[stitchedupwrist]

fences, intersections, a cat.

[eraserheadbabyabortion]

i cant even imagine where id be without "thats a really mean way to think about me, i wish you wouldnt think that i dont know what im doing when i love you." and "people want to be useful, trying to do everything yourself makes the people around you think that you dont trust them or that you think theyre incapable" and "people are made to be burdens. we are made to carry each other and not leave anyone behind." and "its rotten work / not to me. not if its you."

[zegalba]

“this doesn’t compare to the feel of your skin”

[sparrowlark]

[ID: braille lettering, on a beige background, spelling the above phrase.]

[stitchedupwrist]

yesterday was my 23rd birthday, and a friend wrote to me that some of the best times in her life have been with me, and i cried over that.

[svtcatcafe]

[koniqraaa]

The intimacy of "How did you know that?" "Because i know you." The intimacy of waiting for someone while they tie their shoe laces. The intimacy of sharing one earbud each. The intimacy of inside jokes that always bring laughter. The intimacy of noticing someone's nervous habits.

[the-devils-feather]

@bipdf

[trashhmuffinn]

I think we can all agree the real villain in Qala is systemic patriarchy

[sjiphany]

☆

• 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘪 \ 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 :

[carebeardean]

hi have you seen my daughter?? well now you have

[growingupisbeyondus]

This literally killed me.

[kaalbela]

Chiron Duong

[riseswind]

FALLEN ANGELS ‘墮落天使’ (1995) dir. Wong Kar-wai

[stitchedupwrist]

you know when i lose someone dear , of the many ways that i grieve, one thing i never miss doing is to quickly recreate the sound of their voices calling my name in my head and store them safely.

i keep on replaying every one again and again, each of them of different melody and note , in my sleepless nights when i miss them, or when i am filled with the helpless fear of forgetting them.

RIN

through a single call i can clearly hear my beloved grandmother, my funny uncle, my quiet cousin brother, my hero grandfather and my three precious classmates, all of them, whose voices sound so dear and fond as they say the word, and with it all comes always a form of warm and tender smiles which all hug my poor form which too often succumb. God, please never let me forget them.

(at times i can’t help but wonder what my baby brother would have sounded like, i have no memory to store of him except the coldness of his little hands that i remember holding, on the fearful night he left us after taking the form of a human only for seven short hours. My hero grandpa named him Hope, and i never forget him since)

[dailyflicks]

In Korea, there are tons of greenhouses.  Useless, filthy, unpleasant-looking greenhouses.  It’s like they’re all waiting for me to burn them down.

Burning (2018) dir. Lee Chang-dong