Czeslaw Milosz, New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001

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Czeslaw Milosz, New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001
The urge to learn every language and play every instrument and travel the world and live through every historical time period and be a writer and a poet and an actor and
A graffiti in Pompeii roughly 2000 years old that reads "hic fuimus cari duo nos sine fine sodales nomina si [quaeris, Caius et Aulus erant];" – "we two men, dear companions without end, were here. if you [ask for] our names, [they are Caius and Aulus]"
All the statues he made are of such anguished constraint that they seem to want to break themselves. When Buonarroti had grown old, he actually broke them. Art no longer pleased him. He wanted infinity.
- Auguste Rodin about Michelangelo Buonarroti
"there are people waiting to meet you. people waiting to love you. there are places that stand still until you've stepped foot in them. something really beautiful could happen for you in the morning. there is so much waiting for your arrival. arrive there." - brianna pastor
Kiss of Death Monument
“How odd it is to be haunted by someone that is still alive.”
my first love is the one i saw, but could never hold. the one that shows up each evening when the sky is at it's darkest. the only thing that illuminates my soul - miles & miles away.
a continuous fade & return as the nights pass along. but even in her smallest & most insignificant form, all i see is a beautiful sliver of silver surrounded by the perfectly imperfect stars.
she's a constant - night after night. she hears the laughs & the fights, she sees the dancing & the break-ups, yet again and again she shows up without fail.
at fifteen, the world ended over and over and over again. to be so young is a kind of self-violence.
the mortifying ordeal of admitting you do want to be loved vs. the mortifying ordeal of not wanting people to pity you or feel bad for you vs. the mortifying ordeal of wanting to reciprocate affection but being useless vs. the mortifying ordeal of being careless with others and actually feeling bad vs. the mortifying ordeal of being perceived as vulnerable at all.
sitting on the bus on a foggy morning and only thinking - is this, finally, my life? do i hold it with both hands? do i try to live?
"and if i asked you to name all the things that you love, how long would it take for you to name yourself?"
the idea that there is someone, somewhere, out there that is made in the ideal image just for you is astounding. that there is someone so perfect it is almost impossible to imagine, yet they are out there just waiting for that instantaneous minute where your paths will cross. the notion of the impossible to become the very thing possible is what keeps people going. the day our paths cross will be the day everything changes - for good.
The Difference Between “Hello” and “Goodbye”
— by Fabian Perez
“You’ve changed me forever. And I’ll never forget you.”
Sign language being different in every country instead of being universal is a nonsense and an opportunity wasted
“Spoken language being different in every country instead of being universal is a nonsense and an opportunity wasted”
fuck off. you ever thought in your shower that perhaps sign language is more like spoken language than you realise? that it wasn’t just. invented? one day? that it formed in multiple different places and branched off the same way as spoken languages did?
you ever thought about why french and italian are different? or japanese and swedish?
you ever thought that maybe languages are interesting by themselves and having less diversity in them would be a loss of human culture, art, and thousands of years of history? we can track the movements of ancient cultures by looking at the words they loaned from various languages (and the words those languages borrowed back) and what sound shifts have applied to them. that’s a thing we can do! but, y'know, it absolutely is a “wasted opportunity” that all the languages aren’t somehow magically identical, innit.