—I feel like I'm about to let go of something I didn't know I was holding on to.
– Kevin Canty, from “The Birthday Girl,” Where the Money Went: Stories (Vintage, 2010)
dirt enthusiast

pixel skylines
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
No title available
One Nice Bug Per Day

Kiana Khansmith

@theartofmadeline
AnasAbdin
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
i don't do bad sauce passes

oozey mess
Today's Document
DEAR READER
h

No title available
occasionally subtle
Jules of Nature

shark vs the universe
wallacepolsom
almost home
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@xxrayz
—I feel like I'm about to let go of something I didn't know I was holding on to.
– Kevin Canty, from “The Birthday Girl,” Where the Money Went: Stories (Vintage, 2010)
Eeek!!
"إن منظر من يتلقّون المصائب بسكون وضبط نفسٍ لهو أكثر فظاعةً وإرباكًا من منظر أولئك الذين يتلقونها بالجزع والبكاء."
“That’s why I write, because life never works except in retrospect… You can’t control life, at least you can control your version.”
— Chuck Palahniuk, Stranger Than Fiction
“فى هذه البلدة لا يقدر الناس الصباحات, فهم يصحون فجأة على جرس منبه يقطع نومهم مثل ضربة فأس, ثم يدفعون بأنفسهم فجأة فى نشاط صاخب كئيب ,قل لى كيف يمكن ليوم لطيف أن يبدأ بمثل هذه الوتيرة العنيفة الخرقاء ماذا يحدث للناس الذين يبدأون الحياة كل صباح بصدمة ازعاج صغيرة بشكل ملائم يسمونه جرس منبه؟ فى كل يوم يصيرون أشد تكييفًا مع العنف و معتادين بصورة أقل على البهجة صدقنى, ان مصير شخصيات الخلق يتحدد بصباحاتهم”
—
ميلان كونديرا
فالس الوداع
Corsage (2022)
“People aren’t either wicked or noble. They’re like chef’s salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict.”
— Lemony Snicket, The Grim Grotto
We want logic, but not without blood feeling […]
Sylvia Plath, The Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume II: 1956–1963 — Aurelia Schober Plath, 18th March 1957
The Passengers of the Night (2022)
e.e. cummings, from ‘Now i lay(with everywhere around)’ (in 73 Poems), Complete Poems: 1904-1962
[Text ID: “now i lay me down to dream of Spring”]
𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝟷𝟽, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟸 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶-𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹
[ID: Today, painfully tired, spent the afternoon on the sofa. END ID]
Virginia Woolf, from The Waves
Margaret Atwood, from The Blind Assassin
The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1920–1923