Talk to me about anything under the sun except for Who I am. What I like. Why I do what I do. For to say it aloud would give my existence a form, a definition. Seeable. Touchable. I wish to be anything but that.

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cherry valley forever
KIROKAZE

@theartofmadeline

#extradirty
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
almost home

oozey mess
Mike Driver

Janaina Medeiros
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Today's Document
Three Goblin Art
taylor price
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hello vonnie

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@theaestheticasshole
Talk to me about anything under the sun except for Who I am. What I like. Why I do what I do. For to say it aloud would give my existence a form, a definition. Seeable. Touchable. I wish to be anything but that.
Jack Gilbert, from Collected Poems; “Summer at Blue Creek, North Carolina”
Ocean Vuong
Sandra Cisneros, from "Tea Dance, Provincetown, 1982", Woman Without Shame
how obsessive is too obsessive?
Vernon Scannell, from "Sunt Lacrimae Rerum"
Text ID: On that dark thread of sadness which is time
“The labyrinth of late autumn […] The forest in this season is a silent palace of abandoned rooms. Only a few, precise sounds: as if someone were lifting twigs with tweezers; as if, inside each tree-trunk, a hinge was creaking silently.”
— Tomas Tranströmer, from “Out in the Open″, The Deleted World: Poems (versions by Robin Robertson, bilingual ed.)
Anne Carson, Preface to Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides
Patrick Modiano, from In the Café of Lost Youth
Text ID: For me, autumn has never been a sad season. The dying leaves and the days that grow shorter and shorter have never evoked the end of something for me but instead brought with them anticipation for the future.
Simone de Beauvoir, from Diary of a Philosophy Student: Volume 2, 1928-9; Tuesday, October 9
Text ID: I find myself back in the obscure sweetness of fall nights,
“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.”
A. A. Milne
Sometimes all you need to do is sit in the woods until you feel the earth numb your soul and seep into your bones.
I don’t get mad anymore, I just get really quiet. Why keep talking when nobody is really listening to you?
Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry
i am a simple girl i seek academic validation and get absolutely destroyed when i don’t receive it