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Peter Solarz
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Today's Document

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Origami Around
Stranger Things
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
dirt enthusiast

pixel skylines
YOU ARE THE REASON

Kaledo Art
Acquired Stardust
occasionally subtle

JVL
wallacepolsom
Three Goblin Art
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KIROKAZE

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

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@thingsthatdestroyme
They all came to Heliogabalus’ parties, the ancient equivalent of Conan Grey, a wicked party-animal and an angel with horns with a fine taste for flowers. Once a year he howled on top of his empire so everyone could hear: « Come and rejoice, my friends! It is the only week of the year where the beautifuls aren’t scorning the uglies, for all of you are covered with the finest rose petals! » Of course they all lacked the ability to take maniac selfies but Lawrence Alma-Tadema and Cole Thomas immortalized one of these feasts; they were two painters in love but who never dared in their lifetime tell each other for they were too afraid to be laughed at. Everyone would come a long way just to bathe in roses; some drowned in petals, drunk, sank there alone before they could make a new friend. Egor clearly had enough and asked for it all to stop, a protective hand above his hangover head on the 2nd day, feeling like someone took his soul away. Nerds, prom queens, geeks, ferret lovers, people who called themselves “normal”, all showed up and reunited in peace, days and nights, for this special week once a year. A real mood for many present-day citizens.
Blue is the warmest color
two girls kissing in paris, ignoring the politics in this // a film about two girls who are not depressed because they are gay // a film about two girls who are not dead because they are gay // they give each other flowers // there is no grave in this // no scene in which the heartbroken walk back down the street, away from the camera // the end is not elegy // the end is not blue // running cornflower // fistfuls of cerulean // cold sky // they know how to love each other // there is no choreographed sex // no brief infinite tenderness // they learn how to use their mouths // a folding of soft // no crash // no broken windshield bodies // no tears // just imagine: a movie about two girls where neither of them have to cry
and someday we’ll tell our grandchildren that we wasted our youth laying in bed and reading books and expecting the kind of love we read about, and also sitting in the dark at 1 am laughing at memes and tiktoks
Did you know, there was a writer and he once wrote a book on the color yellow? It was a big descriptive book, full of pages & knowledge around/about the color yellow. Do you know how that book ends? The last line of the book says: "The color yellow is yellow because it is yellow." I guess that's life & that's how we feel every year on any given day, especially on our birthdays. The whole year seems like this desperate attempt of writing a book, about something that we wanted to resolve before we turn another year old, but by the time we reach there and it's our birthday, again, we realise something about our problems and resolutions on which we were trying to work on so thoroughly, just like that writer of that book...that.. the color yellow is yellow because it's yellow.
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You're back where you started. But is that a bad thing? I don't think so. I think we become more lost everyday, we just sometimes need a special day like our birthdays to feel how lost we really are in life,in totality.
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Some of us just accept the color yellow as yellow. Some of us don't even bother to question the nature of our own existence and all the problems in it. But there are some gentle souls like you, who are always resisting.
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You, my dear friend, are in love with the color yellow and by that I mean, you're in love with life. Your love is made of resistance.
It is made of curiosity. It is made of revolutionary thoughts. Your love is not just love, your love is political. Your love is your art. Your love is a political art.
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To you, yellow is not just yellow. It's not just a color. To you, yellow is everything that you feel but cannot express. To you yellow is a feeling. To you, the color yellow is your freedom to fuck off from everything and everyone in your own beautiful solitude.
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Never let anyone dictate your life just because they love you. That's not love. One day, when you will love again, life will become yellow, a yellow truth.
"Love is awful. It's awful. It's painful. It's frightening. It makes you doubt yourself, judge yourself, distance yourself from the other people in your life. It makes you selfish. It makes you creepy, makes you obsessed with your hair, makes you cruel, makes you say and do things you never thought you would do. It's all any of us want, and it's hell when we get there. So no wonder it's something we don't want to do on our own. I was taught if we're born with love then life is about choosing the right place to put it. People talk about that a lot, feeling right, when it feels right it's easy. But I'm not sure that's true. It takes strength to know what's right. And love isn't something that weak people do. Being a romantic takes a hell of a lot of hope. I think what they mean is, when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope."
— Hot Priest, Fleabag- Episode 2.6
Written By Phoebe Waller-Bridge.
Someday someone will love you whole heartedly. it will be the easiest thing they've ever done.
You do not need to search for love, or ask for it, or desperately cling to an image of it. it will find you and it will not be simple. but the complications will be worth it. because its you. you deserved to be loved on purpose. and you will be. you are brilliant and breathtaking and someday you will bewitch somebody, body and soul. i love you.
You couldn't make yourself even want to love again but then you forget that if you're lucky, sometimes loving brings being loved with it. when you decided you don't want to want love ever again you forgot how we always always want to be loved and you keep forgetting until that one time you take a leap and start to love again. slowly, like testing the waters putting your toes in before you dive but sometimes when you lose yourself to the water something beautiful happens and you feel loved again and you realise how much how bad you've missed this feeling and how bad you needed it and you sit and think about how you survived this long without being loved and how its the most beautiful feeling in this world and you could cry just thinking about it and you never wanna feel any other way again.
Leave the light's on. Keep talking. I'll keep walking towards the sound of your voice.
My straight friends tease me because all my best friends are my ex loves, but a wise heart told me it's the most tender part of queerness-how we've all lost so much family when we find people we call family, we'll do almost anything to not let go.
tranquility
I thought I would be understood without words
"I pray you do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine"
- William Shakespeare, As you like it