Listening to my body over my to-do lists
todays bird

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
cherry valley forever
h
NASA
almost home
trying on a metaphor
YOU ARE THE REASON
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

romaâ

Andulka
hello vonnie
Aqua Utopiaď˝ćľˇăŽĺşă§č¨ćśăç´Ąă

Discoholic đŞŠ
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Game of Thrones Daily
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dirt enthusiast
we're not kids anymore.
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@hclmoonshine
Listening to my body over my to-do lists

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Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your root was so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.
Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.
Extract from Captain Corelliâs Mandolin â Louis de Bernieres
Florida
Kocaeli
Cebu
"Geceydi her yer, sen yildizdin." đŤ
( Itâs was night Everywhere, you were the STAR.)
{Picture by Me..}
Turkish Poem
"AĹk"
AĹk yĂźrĂźyĂźĹĂź yĂźrĂźdĂźÄĂźm yerde,
Ben deÄilim artÄąk, baĹka birisi var.
GĂśzlerim gĂśrdĂźÄĂźm yerde, ben deÄilim,
Bir baĹka gĂśz var karĹÄąmda, bir baĹka var.
Dilim konuĹtuÄum yerde, ben deÄilim,
Bir baĹka dil var dudaklarÄąmda, bir baĹka var.
KulaklarÄąm dinlediÄim yerde, ben deÄilim,
Bir baĹka kulak var yanÄąmda, bir baĹka var.
Her Ĺey baĹka olmuĹ, her Ĺey deÄiĹmiĹ,
YalnĹz senin hatĹrĹn, yalnĹz senin için aynĹ:
Senin için bir yÄąldÄąz dĂźĹer her gece,
Senin için bir gĂźneĹ doÄar her sabah.
AĹk yĂźrĂźyĂźĹĂź yĂźrĂźdĂźÄĂźm yerde,
Ben deÄilim artÄąk, baĹka birisi var.
- by Orhan Veli KanÄąk
Translation:-
Love walks where I walk, I am no longer myself, there is someone else.Where my eyes see, I am not there, There is another eye in front of me, another one.
Where my tongue speaks, I am not there, Another language is on my lips, another one. Where my ears listen, I am not there, Another ear is beside me, another one.
Everything has changed, everything has transformed,
Only your memory, only for you it remains the same:
For you, a star falls every night,
For you, a sun rises every morning.
Love walks where I walk,
I am no longer myself, there is someone else.

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âBazÄą hayaller, gerçek olmayÄą çok hakediyor.â
âSome dreams deserve to come true.â
Aaron Bushnell's final social media post before his self-immolation.
a man self immolated in front of the israeli embassy in washington dc yesterday. not just any man. an active member of the us air force. he live streamed his death, and said that he refused to be complicit in a genocide any longer. he said that compared to what palestinians were facing every day, setting himself alight was nothing.
let me reiterate. an active duty air force member burned himself alive because he was so disgusted by what the us government was openly supporting. he live-streamed his own suicide, so the whole world could bear witness as a man in his military uniform set himself on fire to protest his governmentâs complicity in the horrors that we have all been forced to watch happen in real time. he became a new horror. footage of the immolation blurs him out the moment the fire catches, but you can hear him. it is over in seconds, really, but you can hear him screaming. he shouts âfree palestineâ until his body physically cannot make any sounds other than guttural screams of agony. and then he falls silent. a police officer arrives and points a gun at his still burning body, shouting at him to get down on the ground. and it is over.
his name was Aaron Bushnell. he was twenty five years old. and he isnât here anymore because the political ruling class has decided that genocide is perfectly fine as long as it preserves imperialism. in the coming days, people will try to discredit him. to say that he was mentally unstable. they will try to bury his actions to save face and defend israelâs propaganda. do not let them. aaron knew what he was doing. he knew what he was doing when he put on his military uniform, set up his twitch stream, and made his final walk up to the embassy. he knew what would happen to him when he flicked that lighter. do not let them forget. aaronâs blood is on the hands of the political ruling class.
Rip mommy la

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"There may not be, you know, as much humanity in the world as one would like to see, but there is some. There's more than one would think. In any case, if you...if you break faith with what you know...that's a betrayal of many, many, many, many people. I may know six people, but that's enough. Love has never been a popular movement and no-one's ever wanted really to be free. The world is held together, really it is, held together, by the love and the passion of a very few people. Otherwise, of course you can despair. Walk down the street of any city, any afternoon, and look around you. What you've got to remember is what you're looking at is also you. Everyone you're looking at is also you. You could be that person, you could be that monster, you could be that cop. And you have to decide in yourself not to be."
(Meeting the Man: James Baldwin in Paris (1970), dir. Terence Dixon)
To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.
â Arundhati Roy, The Cost of Living
âThe trouble is that once you see it, you canât unsee it. And once youâve seen it, keeping quiet, saying nothing, becomes as political an act as speaking out. Thereâs no innocence. Either way, youâre accountable.â - Arundhati Roy
Some days

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âKnowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.â
â Bell Hooks