asfaraswordscango

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me: I’m a non-binary girl.

friend: okay but you still have a man’s body

me: you’re right we should probably bury this dead guy instead of talking about gender

friend: i’ll get the shovels

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Kinda wild how my parents have known me for longer than literally anybody else on the planet and they still haven’t unlocked the relationship levels that allow them access to information like what TV shows or music I enjoy, when some random guy at Walmart got there within ten minutes today

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I don’t think we as artists — be it painters, illustrators, drawers, writers, poets, photographers, song writers, singers, etc — realize how immortal our art is. not to sound cringe, but like… your art lives forever, or at least the art you put into this world will most likely live for a very long time after you die. I logged into my old writing platform account that I haven’t used in years today and found out people still read and comment on my old works.

there’s something beautiful about the thoughts of the art you created and put into this world being people’s source of comfort and/or inspiration even after you die.

there’s something very poetic about people enjoying and appreciating a piece of art, even if the artist is no longer around.

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— via knjfedog

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musings on october

1. Alfonsina Storni, 2. Cy Twombly, 3. William Stanley Merwin, 4. Cy Twombly, 5. Virginia Woolf, 6. Jorge Albericio, 7. Gala Mukomolova, 8. Andrei Tarkovsky, 9. Czesław Miłosz, 10. Andrei Tarkovsky, 11. Thomas Wolfe, 12. Andrei Tarkovsky, 13. Louise Glück

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Peregrinate (verb)

Meaning: To travel or wander around from place to place.

Example: After graduation, she decided to peregrinate across Europe, experiencing different cultures and landscapes.

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Serendipity (noun)

Definition: The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

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Hey so I don’t like being personal on here but I really need some sort of motivation so uhm 15000 notes and I’ll talk to my parents about my eating issues

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“WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?”

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU. I am in love with you.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t say that.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No. No you’re not. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy right now. You don’t get to guilt trip me. Newsflash, asshole, you don’t have a moral high ground right now because you say you’re in love with me.”

“But I am. Please. Every goddamn day I fall deeper in love with you.”

“Stop it-”

“No. I can’t hide it anymore. I can’t breathe when you’re near and I can’t breath when you’re away. You are everything I am searching for.”

“STOP IT.”

“NO! You are the answer to my questions. You are the eye of a hurricane. You are the invisible force tugging my lips into a smile. You are bigger than the moon and stars themselves.”

“I HATE YOU.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

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Concept: You walk outside one night and notice that there are two full moons. A few hours go by and they don’t seem to move.

You stare up at them.

They blink.

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for the consideration of poets by Haki R. Madhubuti

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Mahmoud Darwish, Life To The Last Drop

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“do you write for work or just for fun” none of the above. this activity is neither profitable nor enjoyable

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— Friedrich Nietzsche

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Anaïs Nin, Under A Glass Bell

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Emily Dickinson, from a letter featured in The Selected Letters of Emily Dickinson