Feb 4
i keep mistaking quiet for loneliness.
some silences are chosen.
some are offered.
i don’t need to be understood.
i just need the room to stay still.
seen from Türkiye
seen from New Zealand
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from New Zealand
seen from United States
seen from Lithuania
seen from New Zealand
seen from Ukraine
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Italy
seen from Italy
seen from Jamaica
seen from China
seen from New Zealand
seen from Australia
i keep mistaking quiet for loneliness.
some silences are chosen.
some are offered.
i don’t need to be understood.
i just need the room to stay still.
Love’s greatest tragedy isn’t anything loud or obvious…but rather it is quiet, little tragedies of love, the small moments we live for, the moments we no longer get to see, the one’s now lost to us. Like their smile, and how we can still hear their laughter echoing in our hearts. Their eyes, the way they look at us and how we can still feel the weight on us. And, their hands, the way they touch us and how our skin still feels the burn. It’s always there…these tiny memories… but, we can no longer hear it or see it or feel it. It lives inside of us now, still so alive. Still so haunting. All these things, you may think go unnoticed… and yet, these are the things we miss the most. And now, the small things become the big things. Because the biggest tragedy in love is in all the missing. So much missing of small, quiet things.
-N.R. Hart, Love’s greatest tragedy
cass and her gf :)
From, Suga of BTS
Man, I feel ... so much like myself right now, but in all the best ways.
It’s a quiet workday (knock on wood that I didn’t just play myself) and it’s cold out; I’m listening to gregorian chant music; I’m tucked under fuzzy blankets and I have super enjoyable writing to look forward to and obsess about.
My brain is calm and not being awful.
There’s a dog and sister in the other room that I love, a fiance at work who is my life, I get to hang out with really great people online.
... life is good.
turning in tents but quiet in the morning
Greenandgoldand full of secrets --
the fragility of it all pulls
the dew down the torso
and into evaporation.
Inside, a universe sleeps and
they are gentleandheavyand filled
your mouth with vapor
while you were sleeping.
Limbs are so light, you could mend into
the blueandquietand forget
the grand gesture of gravity.
some people arrive
without rearranging anything.
they sit where the light already is,
talk like time is generous,
leave their jacket behind by accident.
i tell myself this means nothing.
i am very good at meaning nothing
when it feels safer.
but the room remembers.
the quiet changes shape.
Uhh oc doodle I guess?