Simone Weil
occasionally subtle
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
$LAYYYTER
noise dept.

Origami Around
Sweet Seals For You, Always
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Kiana Khansmith
Jules of Nature
Xuebing Du
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Today's Document
Three Goblin Art
AnasAbdin

#extradirty
DEAR READER
cherry valley forever
sheepfilms
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@aleeliel
Simone Weil

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i love you to pieces, distraction, etc.
franny & zooey by j.d. salinger // les miserables' epilogue // novalis from selected writings; “hymns to the night,” // I love dick by chris kraus // ada limón, from “bright dead things”
He’s NOT just some guy he’s my girlfriend
“This is the dysfunction talking. This is the disease talking. This is how much I miss you talking. This is the deepest blue, talking, talking, always talking to you.”
— Maggie Nelson, from Bluets.

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loving like an animal
1. "It was always you: your unutterable name, this growl in my throat." - erika meitner, copia
2. "I need your teeth in me, slow and vicious, to tell me my armor is just skin, bones, only bones." - jamaal may, the big book of exit strategies
3. "i know no love without teeth & have the scars to remember" - josé olivarez, i wake in a field of wolves with the moon
4. "and always, there is hunger / I will admit that I do not know if I should hold you or eat you." - derold ernest sligh, occupation
5. "after we have caught love we start eating it to the bone." - marge piercy, a key to common lethal fungi
6. "I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow." - hélène cixous, the love of the wolf
7. "I have sharp teeth inside my mouth, / inside my dark red lips, / And lacquer slickly hides the claws / In my red fingertips. / So I conceal my armoury. / Yours is all on view. / You think you are possessing me - / But I've got my teeth in you." - angela carter, unicorn
8. “I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it – to be fed so much love I couldn’t take any more. Just once.” - haruki murakami, norwegian wood
9. "But I am not yet sure how to sever the love from the lover without occasioning some degree of carnage." - maggie nelson, bluets
10. "I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart;" - jorge luis borges, in a deserted streetcorner
11. júlia sardà portabella
— Simone Weil, Gravity & Grace
“But you, you foolish girl, you have gone home to a leaky castle across the sea to lie awake in linen smelling of lavender, and hear the nightingale, and long for me.”
— Edna St. Vincent Millay, letter to Edith Wynne Matthison (via oiseauperdu)
Hello, Do you have poems about the reason why a writer or poet writes?:c
It took me a long time to realise there are two kinds of writing; the one you write and the one that writes you. The one that writes you is dangerous. You go where you don’t want to go. You look where you don’t want to look.
Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?
Richard Hugo, Essay on Poetic Theory: The Triggering Town
Writing is how I attempt to repair myself, stitching back former selves, sentences. When I am brave enough I am never brave enough I unravel the tapestry of my life, my childhood.
Kate Zambreno, from Book of Mutter
Rebecca Lindenberg, Interview in The Believer | March 27 2012
Now the tiredness. Writing is also an attempt to ward off the cold.
Christa Wolf, Cassandra: A Novel and Four Essays (tr. Jan van Heurck)
I am writing to reach you—even if each word I put down is one word further from where you are.
Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous
I’m still not sure. I still don’t know why I’m writing to you. Perhaps I’m not writing to you as much as I’m writing to the part of my past tied to you.
Elisabeth Rynell, from To Mervas
You know how I count on you; on your wisdom and loyalty. I am writing you because I want to see for myself; I am writing to myself through you.
Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters
Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?
I write because I am desperate and I'm tired, I can no longer bear the routine of being me and if not for the always novelty that is writing, I would die symbolically every day.
Clarice Lispector, from The Hour of the Star (tr. Benjamin Moser)
Writing as a way not to remember but to forget. Or if not to forget, to attempt to leave behind.
Kate Zambreno, from Book of Mutter
To leave the world of objects and enter the world of words was to return to the site of acquired grief.
Anne Boyer, How To Go From Poetry To Art
But sometimes words are the only hands / we have to touch a bruised memory / or cleanse a wound that never healed / or lift a body we carried for years / at last to the pyre of shared grief.
Fred Dings, from Eulogy for a Private Man; “Words”
I sat on a gray stone bench / ringed with the ingenue faces / of pink and white impatiens / and placed my grief / in the mouth of language, / the only thing that would grieve with me.
Lisel Mueller, from Alive Together; “When I Am Asked”
Night of four moons
and only one tree.
My love is spinning
on the point of a needle
-Federico García Lorca
“Modern poetry, for me, began not in English at all but in Spanish, in the poems of Lorca.” -W.S. Merwin, who gave us so many beautiful translations
Beautiful
I loved poetry, even as a young child. Lorca in college was different. He was my first immersive, I must absorb it all, experience.

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“I remember your mouth. I imagine it is the open grave of another’s dreams now.”
— Gregory Orr, from the chapter “Imagining,” A Primer for Poets & Readers of Poetry (W. W. Norton & Co., 2018)
“I will lie down in you. Eat my meals at the red table of your heart. Each steaming bowl will be, Just right. I will eat it all up,”
— Natalie Diaz, from “If I Should Come Upon Your House Lonely in the West Texas Desert,” Postcolonial Love Poem (Graywolf Press, 2020)
“That is exactly how I imagined paradise: silence and tears, and the warm silk of your knees.”
— Vladimir Nabokov, from “Beneficence,” The Stories of Vladimir Nabokov (Vintage International, 1997)
I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975.... That was a long time ago, but it’s wrong what they say about the past.... Looking back now, I realize I have been peeking into that deserted alley for the last twenty-six years.
—Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner
what are some of your favourite quotes about growing up? also, orange is the best colour, undisputed.
Lorde, A NOTE FROM THE DESK OF A NEWBORN ADULT
Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
Sandra Cisneros, Eleven
Kalyn Roseanne Livernois, High Wire Darlings
John Hughes, Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Storyboarding for Linked by Air
Mitch Welling, Gentle Earth
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin
J. Courtney Sullivan
Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Girls attend a wedding in Albania, November 1964 (ph: Jean-Louis Swiners)
pj and nick by rocky schenck