Reel around the void

Psychology, Social work, Philosophy, Psychoanalysis

[7pleiades7]

Nymphs of Nysa (Nymphes de Nysa) (1900) by Julius LeBlanc Stewart (American, 1855 – 1919), oil on canvas, 143 cm (56.2 in) x 115 cm (45.2 in), Musée d'Orsay, Paris

[studywithsmiski]

be proud of all the progress you’ve made, no matter how small

all pictures are from Pinterest

[achillesinhighheels]

[lunamonchtuna]

— Ocean Vuong, from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (via lunamonchtuna)

[havingapoemwithyou]

Winter Stars by Larry Levis

[analoguesmiley-deactivated20260]

And I sit here alone and far from you and it's night and I'm reflecting on everything all around me and I am thinking of you. I saw it in your eyes, in your love, you too are swinging towards the depths of your own being in longer and longer circles. I saw happiness and pain in your eyes and reflections of paradises lost and regained and lost again, that terrible loneliness and happiness, yes, and I reflect upon this and I think about you.

- Jonas Mekas in As I Was Moving Ahead I Occasionally Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty, 2000

[feral-ballad]

Aria Aber, from Hard Damage; “Stone”

[tragiclore]

@tragiclore, I used to be in love

[philosophybits]

“One finds what one loves everywhere, and sees similarities everywhere. The greater the love the more extensive and manifold is this similar world. My beloved is the abbreviation of the universe, the universe is the extension of my beloved. To the lover of learning, all its branches offer garlands and remembrances for his beloved.”

— Novalis, Faith and Love or The King and Queen

[weltenwellen]

I’ve Been Thinking about Love Again Vievee Francis

[apocryphics]

[remanence-of-love]

[playwrongs]

Bertolt Brecht, trans. Tom Kuhn and David Constantine

[metamorphesque]

Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us, even in the leafless winter, even in the ashy city. I am thinking now of grief, and of getting past it;

I feel my boots trying to leave the ground, I feel my heart pumping hard. I want

to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.

Mary Oliver, "Starlings in Winter"

[primulaceas]

Tennessee Williams, “We Have Not Long to Love.”

[pagewoman]

Italian Villa

by Georg Emil Libert (1820-1908)

[upamilion]

I prefer being too much bc it typically removes the weak people

[havingapoemwithyou]

And Then I Tried by Rene Ricard