written olivia

She dreams of mermaids and motorcycles and meeting a man who can dance.

[bungalowclassic]

[theclassicsreader]

“you said Love, for you, / is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s / terrifying. No one / will ever want to sleep with you.”

— Richard Siken, from “Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out” (via theclassicsreader)

[writtenolivia]

I want to look at it

Of course I want to look

I think I will always want to look at you.

Crooked smiled,

lean legged - golden

haired devil of my soul.

The thought of us together after such a time apart

is absurd.

We know this,

We tip-toe around the

potential togetherness

Thumbing the words between words

On glass planes

Stored in a cloud, somewhere.

Steve maybe knows

but I will never.

Could never

Know the truth between us

A thick,spinning,sweetness of memory

Ripe with nostalgia

Delivered in a melody

A vibration

The plane gyrates

Once,

Twice

Silence.

I pretend

To not acknowledge

the reality.

Divine timing.

Irony reigns

Heartache tinkers at the sane, soft, still

Moments

Like the broken clock

That was

This

Year

.

[partial-boner]

[fuckcreativeusername]

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004)

[blossomfully]

“In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you’re whispering ‘where have you been?’ I say, ‘I’ve been lost but I’m here now. You’re the only person who has ever been able to find me.’”

— Sue Zhao

[feral-ballad]

Marina Tsvetaeva, tr. by Elaine Feinstein, from Marina Tsvetaeva: Selected Poems, “No one has taken anything away”

[yesterdaysprint]

The Australasian, Melbourne, February 15, 1919

[mournfulroses]

Aimé Césaire, from The Complete Poetry; “And The Dogs Were Silent,”

[probablyplentydaredevil]

[devrimsigarasi-deactivated20200]

[thedeathofcool]

The secret to a good morning is to watch the sunrise with an open heart. 🖊 A. T. Hincks 👁 @russell_holliday

https://www.instagram.com/p/CETVa9_l2IT/?igshid=1i0t61rwjq0ix

[toryburch]

[makkleyn]

“Life is confusing, like one day you’re the happiest person alive and tomorrow you hate everyone and everything for no logical reason”

[equatorjournal]

David Hockney, Paper pools, 1980.

“In the late 1970s, David Hockney began experimenting with the unconventional paper pulp medium in an attempt to capture the subtle hues of shimmering light on water.

Paper Pools is a book chronicling a very specific moment in Hockney’s creative process, a short period in 1978 when on route to California from England, he made a de-tour to Tyler Graphics studios in upstate New York, to visit friend and previous collaborator Kenneth Tyler. Here he was introduced to a new medium, the paper pulp process. This involved dyeing wet pulped rags, which were applied in various ways to recently-created and still wet paper, until they were finally fully pressed and dried; there were opportunities for the artist to manipulate the application of colour at all stages. The result was a cross between paper-making, print-making and painting.” https://www.instagram.com/p/CFKsrDmgOxj/?igshid=nwhkevrefif5

[equatorjournal]

[tendernotion]

Tracy Emin, 1996