A Place of Text

[bigtoering]

I’m so thankful and lucky god made me a faggot.

[girlstressed]

kitten ill be honest daddy is pondering whether she'll always feel this way or if it gets better

[jinxproof]

jenny holzer × helmut lang

[petaltexturedskies]

Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait in Letters

[reapering]

fighting the urge to always know why

[neurvo]

[metamorphesque]

Poem(or ”the divine right of majorities, that illegitimate offspring of the divine right of kings” Homer Lea), E. E. Cummings

[tunisian]

oh my god. most of life really is about the little things. a good haircut, a nice playlist, trying a new recipe that turns out well, a poem that hits home, a comfortable spot in the sun, spontaneous messages, a pen you enjoy writing with, tea with the right temperature to drink, buying that thing you’ve been eyeing for a while, a warm bed. yeah im so grateful for the small joys

[thoughtkick]

“Waiting is a sign of true love and patience. Anyone can say “I love you”, but not everyone can wait and prove it’s true.”

— lieinlove

[bonivers]

(girl who is already extremely private) i think i need to Move In More Silence

[literaryvein]

L. V., an old piece, revisited

[autism-freaks]

I would like to remind people that masculinity and gentleness are not opposites. They are not mutually exclusive. You can be very masculine and gentle at the same time. No one is more or less masculine for exhibiting kind, gentle behavior.

[quotefeeling]

“I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.”

— Ruta Sepetys, Salt to the Sea

[thoughtkick]

“Begin to see yourself as a soul with a body rather than a body with a soul.”

— Wayne Dyer

[omniivert]

[heyvamin]

i wish people could smell the pureness and beauty of my soul like they smell the perfume on my skin

[thirdity]

“Warhol himself was never anything but a kind of hologram. Famous people came to the Factory to hover around him without being able to get anything from him, but they tried to pass through him as you might with a filter or a camera lens, which is what he had in effect become.”

— Jean Baudrillard, The Perfect Crime