Dark and wild

[metamorphesque]

October is my empire. Terror is part of me. 一 Tamura Ryūichi

1. Alfonsina Storni, 2. Cy Twombly, 3. William Stanley Merwin, 4. Cy Twombly, 5. Virginia Woolf, 6. Jorge Albericio, 7. Gala Mukomolova, 8. Andrei Tarkovsky, 9. Czesław Miłosz, 10. Andrei Tarkovsky, 11. Thomas Wolfe, 12. Andrei Tarkovsky, 13. Louise Glück

[dirty]

I’ll choose her thunder over anyone else’s sunshine.

[dirty]

one day i wanna make you breakfast while you sit on the counter and tell me about your dreams

[tendermimi]

— Mahmoud Darwish, The Death of the Phoenix

[lilllium]

—Mahmoud Darwish, from In the Presence Of Absence

[sapphopilled]

Work Song by Hozier / Mahmoud Darwish

[confessionalists]

* walking round the supermarket muttering to myself* loneliness is still time spent with the world loneliness is still time spent with the world loneliness is still time spent with the world loneliness is still

[aridante]

the black saint & the sinner lady & the dead & the truth, morgan parker // the truth the dead know, anne sexton.

[written-w0rd]

Salma Deera, Letters from Medea

[wildflowweer]

―things are constantly happening and I would like for it to stop (please)

[ashstfu]

ok so crying over a book is one of the most prominent sign of compassion for humanity. you’re crying over someone who isn’t really there, doesn’t really exist, but you still feel for them as if you've known them your entire life.

[kurja-tales]

I have received more love from strangers than the people I know and I think that says a lot about human connections.

[kurja-tales]

Seriously, Having this 'Good Girl image' is ruining my every chance of doing anything inappropriate.

[taghna-deactivated20211125]

how can people be so rude and don’t feel bad afterwards… When I don’t say thank you or don’t smile back I’ll think about it for 3 months straight and have flashbacks

[littlebirdofprey]

all I do is listen to music and think about my silly little fictional people

[kurja-tales]

 I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t say, shhh. I don’t say, it is okay. I wait until it is done having feelings. Then we stand and we go wash the dishes. We crack open bedroom doors, step over the creaks, and kiss the children. We are sore from this grief, like we’ve returned from a run, like we are training for a marathon. I’m with you all the way, says my grief, whispering, and then we splash our face with water and stretch, one big shadow and one small.

~Taking Care by Callista Buchen

[porchlights]

it should be a law that if it’s raining and you wake up feeling comfy in bed you shouldn’t have to answer to any of your obligations