Jan 5, 2025
snoopy reads my brilliant friend
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snoopy reads my brilliant friend
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
As we talked I realized she wanted many things at the same time, and that kept her in a permanent state of dissatisfaction.
Elena Ferrante, The Lying Life of Adults
"She was afraid of losing Enzo's kindness, the attention he gave to all her anxieties, the tranquil strength he emanated and thanks to which he had saved her […].
Raffaella "Lila" Cerullo & Enzo Scanno My Brilliant Friend│L'amica geniale (2018 – 2024)
“Her quickness of mind was like a hiss, a dart, a lethal bite.”
— Elena Ferrante, from “My Brilliant Friend”
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
*goes up to a lesbian couple* okay which one of you compels everyone who encounters you to be dragged into your orbit, distracting them with your radiance from how your own brilliance threatens to consume you whole, from what ugliness lies beneath that beauty, and which one of is both in awe of and envious of the other, forever stuck in a cycle of insecurity and self-hatred, feeling as if anything you can do will only ever fall short of them, leading you to push them away only to return because if they’re the flame, you’re the moth, and you’ll burn together, and in their absence you’ll be left aimlessly fluttering
My friends and I organised a reading getaway to Normandie! We spent our days indulging in Elena Ferrante’s writing and lots of coffee ☕️
Suffering modifies the image of time. The eruption of suffering cancels out linear time, breaks it, makes it into whirling squiggles. The night of time crouches at the edges of the dawn of today and tomorrow. Suffering casts us down among our single-celled ancestors, among the quarrelsome or terrorized muttering in the caves, among the female divinities expelled into the darkness of the earth, even as we keep ourselves anchored — let’s say — to the computer we’re writing on. Strong feelings are like that: they explode chronology. An emotion is a somersault, a tumble, a dizzying pirouette.
Elena Ferrante, Frantumaglia