Eloquent Deliberate Silence

Ellipsis - a history of my words are here velvet-reading-room.tumblr.com/

[youmakemeneedyou]

[remanence-of-love]

[youmakemeneedyou]

…

Still here. Sort of.

Words have been dammed up behind work and life for too long.

Hopefully I can see a little chink of light which might give me some space to fill the gap with words and thoughts rather than deeds and activity.

Hopefully.

[youmakemeneedyou]

It's my 15 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Well that is a scary number.

But full of memories of people met, things learnt, words written (as The Dirty Romantic for a long while), and a whole load of life going alongside it all including challenges and high points.

My main thought here though is how many words have I written here over those years, and what if I had not been a wandering generality but a meaningful specific and had turned that tumble of words into a story or a novella, maybe even enough for a novel.

Maybe something to aim for the next 15.

[divorce-enjoyer]

why go to the grocery store or to a restaurant when you can just get food delivered why go to the mall when you can get same day shipping on amazon why go to the library when you have kindle why make art when there’s ai why go to the cinema when you can stay at home and watch netflix. we are in a loneliness epidemic btw

[divorce-enjoyer]

the loneliness epidemic was invented by BIG SHIT to sell you more SHIT

[decompositie]

[thecrownedgoddess]

Yet, there’s a quiet kind of loneliness in all this. To hunger for minds that meet yours fully, fiercely, and without flinching, is to be reminded, often, of their rarity. It’s not just about being understood; it’s about being engaged, challenged, and courted in the language of thought. Intellectual intimacy isn’t always easy to find, but it’s even harder to sustain. Sometimes it feels like you’re always one layer too deep for the room, waiting for someone who won’t flinch at the weight of your references or the vulnerability of your curiosity.  To crave that kind of communion is to live slightly haunted, and it sustains my fascination with ghosts, as I’m always searching for the next mind that might see me, really see me, beneath the surface of my words.

Helen Higgins, The Erotics of Intelligence

[youmakemeneedyou]

Moments #7

My eyes close in sympathy with lips that overwhelm the evidence of my desire.

I am nothing but this moment.

Seduced by your succulent warmth, I give myself to you, and you accept it all.

Ellipsis

[nixscriptum]

less of a poem, more of a reminder. ( ఌ )

[petaltexturedskies]

crisping into woollen autumn and into the darkening iron of November … and Christmas … vacation — grinding through an icy, mud-grimy January-February-March, and tentatively, unbelievingly, unfolding into another spring, when the damn world makes us think we are as young as we ever were and deceives us by pale lucid skies and the sudden opening of little leaves.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals

[youmakemeneedyou]

Moments #6

Planted in the high back chair, you sit, held in place. My fist wrapped in your hair keeps your head lifted, eyes on me.

Fingers slick and glistening, moving fast, they force another groan from you.

The wet slap, slap, slap of my palm against your cunt reverberates around the sparse room.

Eyes pleading, looking up at me, wanting, needing. But what exactly?

For me to carry on pounding my fingers into that hungry needy hole, or for me to relent and let you come?

Right now, that doesn’t concern me. All I want is to see the need in you grow with every thrust of my fingers.

Pretty eyes looking up at me show me not the window to your soul, but instead a flaming need to be used, to be taken, to be mine.

My hand moves, you groan, your need grows, there is nothing else that matters in this moment.

Ellipsis

[youmakemeneedyou]

You think she’s playing hard to get?

No, I think she is hard to get.

Stay the Night (2022)

[anancientheart]

why are we replacing thinking and imagination and being inquisitive with… ai. go read a dead woman’s diary.

[wedge-of-poetry]

The autumn wind blew over England. It twitched the leaves off the trees, and down they fluttered, spotted red and yellow, or sent them floating, flaunting in wide curves before they settled.

- Virginia Woolf, The Years

[seemoreandmore]

木枯らし Kogarashi (n.)

This is the first cold wind you feel in autumn that lets you know winter is fast approaching. It means “leaf-shaking wind". Depending on your feelings about winter, the coming of kogarashi is either exciting or foreboding.

[makekatwet]

“I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because ‘romantic’ doesn’t mean ‘sugary.’ It’s dark and tormented — the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can’t attain.”

— Catherine Breillat (via wordsthat-speak)

[youmakemeneedyou]

Thoughts #12 - 19th October ‘25

This is another one of those posts where I want to get some words out but they are reluctant to appear in any meaningful way.

So instead I’ll just burble away here until I stop, just hoping that the act of putting some words down will unblock something.

But then again perhaps it won’t. Perhaps the burble will just burble along as a meaningless burble.

And so, this evening, all I can muster is this little clump of pointless nothing. I wish it was more.

But not today.

Ellipsis (doesn’t write)

[luxe-pauvre]

Because of the digital revolution, our lives are being transformed by three grand bargains. The intellectual bargain: we have more knowledge but less capacity to concentrate and focus. The social bargain: we are much more available but much less attentive. And most importantly, the emotional bargain: we are much more connected, but much less empathetic. When we trade away skills for power, attention for availability, empathy for connectivity, and quality for quantity of relationships, we sign up to a Faustian pact that we do not even know exists—one that gives us more control over the outside world, but less control over our inner world.

Micah Goodman, Our Technology Sickness - and How to Heal It