bluuwithyou

[bluuwithyou]

there’s a difference between “just do a little yoga it will cure your depression forever :)” and “going for a run won’t solve your problems but it will make you feel a little better and that’s the first step” but this site seems to treat them as the same thing

[bluuwithyou]

“…But for you, my love, I am more delicate…”

— Clarice Lispector, from Complete Stories; “Brasília”

[bluuwithyou]

this is your reminder to start slow and gradually lean into consistency rather than to change your entire routine one fine day. it's okay to start wherever and whenever you feel ready. please don't compare yourself to the highlight reel of people on social media. i promise it's never too late to work on your goals. you don't have to make a drastic change just because it's a new year. time is a social construct and i want nothing more than for you to truly enjoy life at present without worrying too much about the future. you are completely able to achieve goals you have set for yourself, but take it step by step. please avoid burnout and please take rest. wishing you all the best!!

[bluuwithyou]

“some things aren’t meant to last” ok but consider this: I love permanence and consistency

[bluuwithyou]

— Nizar Qabbani, ‘What Love Can Do’, from Arabian Love Poems: Full Arabic and English Texts (via lunamonchtuna)

[bluuwithyou]

the main problem with this time of year is the irresistible urge to get fully into bed at like 5:34 pm and outside is like yesss, yesss do it, it's what you deserve yesss. like is it depression or is it just november

[bluuwithyou]

[bluuwithyou]

i want to FLUSTER that man. i want to make him BLUSH. i want to make him feel VULNERABLE AROUND ME. i want to make him WEAK IN THE KNEES. i want to kiss him

[bluuwithyou]

i forgot how fucking weird november is theres no afternoon its just night after 2pm

[bluuwithyou]

every day i discover the meaning of life and then i lose it again and then again a new day and i discover the meaning of life and lose it by night time and then again and so on

[bluuwithyou]

sevdaliza !!

[bluuwithyou]

Rebecca Ross, Ruthless Vows

[bluuwithyou]

YOU WILL FIND A WAY!!!! YOU WILL FIND A WAY . You will find a WAY ….. you WILL find a way . You will find a way you will find a way……!! YOU WILL FIND A WAY YOU WILL FIND A WAY you will find a Way you will (find) a way you will find. a way you will find a way YOU WILL FIND A WAY!!!!!!!

[bluuwithyou]

Clarice Lispector, tr. by Ronald W. Sousa, The Passion According to G.H.

[bluuwithyou]

I was only curious to know how it started.

In The Mood For Love 花樣年華 (2000) dir. Wong Kar-Wai

[bluuwithyou]

acceptance has been a very good thing for my relationships. i accept people as they are and expect general consistency unless they are particularly tenacious or introspective. acceptance doesn’t mean that you like or even necessarily cooperate with someone but that you have made sense of them in some way as a person. people can be repetitive and predictable; i don’t expect change to come from nothingness.

[bluuwithyou]

what are ur fave poems of all-time?

hi 💌 here are some:

“Hanging Fire” by Audre Lorde

“Tired” by Langston Hughes

“Having a Coke with You” by Frank O'Hara

“Love After Love” by Derek Walcott

“Mayakovsky” by Frank O'Hara

“i like my body when it is with your” by E. E. Cummings

“New Year's Eve Prayer” by Jeff Buckley

“Rain” by Roberto Bolaño

“Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver

“Spring Torrents” by Sara Teasdale

“Tulips” by Sylvia Plath 

“A great Hope fell” by Emily Dickinson

“Poem” by Langston Hughes

“Sometimes I Pretend” by Naomi Shihab Nye

“What Was Once the Largest Shopping Center in Northern Ohio Was Built Where There Had Been a Pond I Used to Visit Every Summer Afternoon” by Mary Oliver

“Summer Morning” by Mary Oliver

“You Are Tired (I Think)” by E. E. Cummings

“Sifter” by Naomi Shihab Nye

“Emergency Management” by Camille Rankine

“Thanksgiving 2006” by Ocean Vuong

“Litany” by Langston Hughes

“Suicide in the Trenches” by Siegfried Sassoon

“I heard a Fly buzz - when I died” by Emily Dickinson

“Warning” by Jenny Joseph

“[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]” by E. E. Cummings

“Love Sorrow” by Mary Oliver

“Conversations About Home (at the Deportation Centre)” by Warsan Shire

“Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out” by Richard Siken

“Limited but Fertile Possibilities Are Offered by This Brochure” by Marge Piercy

“The Thing Is” by Ellen Bass

“Mad Girl's Love Song” by  Sylvia Plath

“The Century’s Decline” by Wislawa Szymborska

“A Primer For The Small Weird Loves” by Richard Siken

“Unpainted Door” by Louise Glück

“Spring has come back again” by Rainer Maria Rilke

“Homesickness” by Marina Tsvetaeva

“Don't Hesitate” by Mary Oliver

“There's a certain Slant of light” by Emily Dickinson

“Poem for Haruko” by June Jordan

“To Be Human Is to Sing Your Own Song” by Mary Oliver

“Toward a City That Sings” by June Jordan

“Edward the Confessor” by Eileen Myles (under the cut because I couldn't find it online)

Edward the Confessor by Eileen Myles

I have a confession to make I wish there were some role in society I could fulfill I could be a confessor I have a confession to make I have this way when I step into the bakery on 2nd Ave. of wanting to be the only really nice person in the store so the harried sales woman with several toned hair will like me. I do this in all kinds of stores, coffee shops xerox shops, everywhere I go. And invariably I leave my keys, xeroxing, my coffee from the last place I am being so nice. I try so hard to make a great impression on these neutral strangers right down to the perfect warm smile I get entirely lost and stagger back out onto the street, bereft of something major. It’s really leaning too hard on the everyday. My mother was the kind of woman who dragging us into stores always seemed to charm the pants off the cashier. She was such a great person, so human though at home she was such a bitch, I mean really distant. I imitate her and I don’t do it well. She didn’t leave her wallet or us in a store. I’m just a pale imitation it is simply not my style to open the hearts of strangers to my true personhood. I hope you accept this tiny confession of what I am currently going through. And if you are experiencing something of a similar nature tell someone, not me, but tell someone. It’s the new human program to be in. It would be nice for at least these final moments if we could sigh with the relief of being in the same program with all the other humans whispering in school. I can’t quite locate the terror, but I am trying to be my mother or Edward the Confessor smiling down on you with up-praying hands. I am looking down at the tips of my boots as I step across the balcony of the church excited to be allowed to say these things. Outside my church is a relationship. On 11th street this guy and this woman are selling the woman so they can get more dope. All their things are there, rags and loaves of bread and make-up. And there was— this was incredible. Two men lying by the door of the church giving each other blow-jobs. They were sort of street guys, one black one white. I said hey you can’t do that here. They jumped up, one spit come out of his mouth. If you don’t get out of here I’ll call the cops. Don’t call the cops we’ll go, we’ll leave. That was a shock. That was more than I expected to see in a day. Something about seeing the guy spit come out of his mouth. He didn’t have to do that. I guess I scared him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was scared too.