[thewintersister]

can't believe there was an entire play in the middle of the eras tour, she's so crazy

[thewintersister]

the way that taylor made the tolerate it table for nikki, she did the moss piano for me specially, i know this

[anthonysperkins]

Paul Mescal as Calum Paterson in Aftersun (2022) dir. Charlotte Wells

[thewintersister]

- Ian Hamilton

[thewintersister]

Autumn in Sigulda - Andrei Voznesensky

[thewintersister]

[dreamofmourning]

[thewintersister]

[thewintersister]

It’s an image of ours distorted, not come to light. It abandons a blue vein of oblivion only between two eras dead in us... The heartfelt faces fade, I remain with a swirl of wearisome voices.

-Algerian Diary by Vittorio Sereni

[thewintersister]

- Ian Hamilton

[auburnandamberangel]

//Miniatures from Small Is Beautiful art exhibition in London. These gave me definite vampire vibes. Trinity Gate library and a practical graveyard love nest

[thewintersister]

[gnossienne]

Louise Glück, from “Winter Morning”

[thewintersister]

— from “Lost Alice” by Adelaide Anne Procter

[violettesiren]

In dreams I met my Love; he stood alone, A sadness like pale mist lay on his face; His eyes met mine, then as with anguish prone, Or yet in shame – he turned away his gaze. I made no moan, but even as one in sleep Helplessly murmurs, murmuring fell his name, Like tears which tremulous eyelids may not keep, Or flicker of involuntary flame. Sharply he turned: I neither moved nor spoke, But all life’s pent-up passion gathered form, Till on our eyes the full-orbed lovelight broke, Even as the sun will break upon a storm, And opening wide his arms, he stood! But I, Like a pale wave with backward fluttering crest, Wavered awhile, then with a rapturous cry, Shivering in ecstasy, fell on his breast.

A Dream by Mathilde Blind

[allyourprettywords]

“Ever,” Meghan O’Rourke

Never, never, never, never, never. —King Lear

Even now I can’t grasp “nothing” or “never.” They’re unholdable, unglobable, no map to nothing. Never? Never ever again to see you? An error, I aver. You’re never nothing, because nothing’s not a thing. I know death is absolute, forever, the guillotine-gutting-never to which we never say goodbye. But even as I think “forever” it goes “ever” and “ever” and “ever.” Ever after. I’m a thing that keeps on thinking. So I never see you is not a thing or think my mouth can ever. Aver: You’re not “nothing.” But neither are you something. Will I ever really get never? You’re gone. Nothing, never—ever.

[themirame]

andrey vasnetsov