I SHATTER IN ALL MY DIMENSIONS.

AES　　:　　VIOLNC .

[vionya]

DEICIDE.

[megairea]

We are very lonely and that’s all right. We never have a light, not even ghosts approach us. And if we did: what would we do with light?

Bertolt Brecht, from “O you great trees” (tr. by Tom Kuhn & David Constantine)

[nsane]

[weltenwellen]

Margaret Atwood, “It is Dangerous to Read Newspapers”, Selected Poems: 1965-1975

[sunsounds]

[image ID:

text reading, “I am the cause, I am a stockpile of chemical / toys, my body / is a deadly gadget, / I reach out in love, my hands are guns, / my good intentions are completely lethal.”

in red is underlined the the two lines: “I reach out in love, my hands are guns, / my good intentions are completely lethal.”

end ID]

[lauraharricrs]

Including me.

The Haunting of Bly Manor episode 1: The Great Good Place

[nsane]

THE SELF HAS ALWAYS BEEN COMPOSED OF TWO SELVES. YES, THE SELF WHICH IS OBSERVED AND THE SELF WHICH OBSERVES ITSELF.

[joliecomer]

Normal People (2020): Episode 8

[blisslai-remade-deactivated2020]

farooq-lane’s lips parted rudely. liliana was beautiful.

[clinical-manners]

What happens to a house when it is left alone? When it becomes worn and aged, when its paint peels and its foundations begin to sink? When it goes too long unlived in?

What does it think of? What does it dream?

It may grow angry. Its basement may fill with churning acid like an empty stomach, and its gorge may rise as it asks itself through clenched teeth, "what did I do wrong?"

It may grow bitter.

It may grow hungry.

So hungry and so bitter that its scruples dissolve and its doors unlock themselves.

[gnossienne]

Louise Glück, “October”

[luthienne]

Perhaps I am addicted to solitude and feel safe and easy in it, as if all were not being wasted while I ran in ever narrowing circles.

Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters of Martha Gellhorn (via weltenwellen)

[antigonick]

We’re each of us alone, to be sure. What can you do but hold your hand out in the dark?

Ursula K. Le Guin, from “Nine Lives”, in The Wind’s Twelve Quarters (via antigonick)

[lifeinpoetry]

I’ve been in bed all day / I swallow my own voice

— Aldrin Valdez, from ESL or You Weren’t Here (via lifeinpoetry)

[theotreptos]

Melissa Broder

[theoptia]

Alice Notley, from Songs and Stories of the Ghouls

Text ID: What do you know except for this haunt that I am?

[goreprofonde]

- Angela Carter, The Lady of the House of Love.

[kxowledge]

Joan Didion, The Art of Fiction No. 71