last weeks of january 📖
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last weeks of january 📖

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Hand-painted Miffy porcelain
Virginia Woolf, from “Jacob's Room”
a love that’s intense, all-consuming, passionate, adoring, soul deep, violent in emotion, and possessing.
why is heart associated with feelings and emotions even though it is brain who releases all the chemicals related to it ? the increased heartbeat and all, it is all the doing of brain but then why heart is present in all love poems?
I think it’s because we tend to feel emotions predominantly in our chest . Sadness feels like a hollowness, anger is constricting, happiness feels like soaring etc . Feelings in general aren’t very logical and so we’ve separated it from a part of our body that’s “supposed” to be logical. Our brains might say one thing but our feelings could so starkly contradict it- it feels only right to blame all of humans irrationality on an entirely different organ .
Also a lot of poems are more metaphorical than literal, so that probably plays a big role in why things are the way they are
Here’s an interesting take I found online

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Harold M. Lambert
Three Deers Laying Down In Snowy Forest In Winter, 1940
who are you when you are not watching tv or movies? when you aren't playing video games or reading a book or fanfiction or listening to music or whatever other kind of media that you engage with? who are you when your mind isn't in another world or story, when you are forced to sit with yourself and the only experience you have is your own sensorial life? can you define yourself outside of what you consume? who is that person? do you like them? can you bear it? can you bear it?
this is the funniest thing I’ve seen in any review ever
Penguin English Classics (and more)
Jean Lorrain, from Selected Poems; "Dropping Petals," written c. 1889

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Instagram credit: ekhnreads
Vincent van Gogh, from a letter to his brother Theo
May Sarton, from Recovering: A Journal
Anne Sexton, from “February Third” in The Complete Poems
I love reblogging quotes. I love beautiful words. I love messy words. I love experiencing a story with someone. I love connecting with someone through a poem. I love saying, “I wrote this. I wrote this for you. I wrote this for you to help you see me.” I love communicating. I love text messages. I love letters. I love post cards. I love sharing pieces of myself through the written word. I love meeting people through the written word.

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George Eliot, in a letter to Miss Lewis, dated October 1, 1841 featured in George Eliot’s Life, as Related in her Letters and Journals