2001; year of snake. shade off what no longer serves you.
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Talisa on Photographers
If you ever come across with a chance to fall in love with photographers, don’t. —@talisatells via instagram
#words#photography#webweaving#if you love someone look at what they photograph#photographers need to explain themselves how their language of love is so silent yet loud#2023#love#poetry#retro#illustration#photoshop
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Making dinner and for the briefest second you almost yearned to be held because you’re made of love that has no place to return to
#then i proceed making my pasta#something about empty kitchen gets me#word#poetry#exerpts from a book i'll never write
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— Clarice Lispector, from “The Stream of Life.”
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{Juansen Dizon, I Am The Architect of My Own Destruction page 24/ Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 6: 1955-1966/ Alice Hoffman, The Red Garden/ Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 5: 1947-1955/ Haruki Murakami: Norwegian Wood, page 276/ Michael Ondaatje/ Catherynne M. Valente, The Orphan's Tales: In the Night Garden/ D.H. Lawrence, from The Complete Works; The Plumbed Serpent/ Jean-Paul Sartre, from No Exit/ Alice Notley, from In The Pines: Poems; "In The Pines,"}
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“I wrapped my hands around the coffee. The warmth felt good. A wave of happiness came over me. It felt giddy to be part of it all. To be drinking a cup of coffee like a normal person.”
— Nicole Krauss, from The History of Love
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The sight of you have me on my knees.
#my wip#quotes#quote#poetry#poem#dark poetry#love#exerpts from a book i'll never write#wip#personal#hurt/comfort#monologue#writing#writers of tum#poets on tumblr#love letters#web weaving#spilled ink#march
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IT WENT A LITTLE LIKE THIS:
“How many more minutes?” you asked me as you tightened your hold.
I looked at my phone; the screen blinded your tired eyes and you hid your face on the crook of my neck, inhaling slowly.
“One,” I whispered.
Neither of us moved until three in the morning.
#my wip#quotes#quote#poetry#poem#dark poetry#love#exerpts from a book i'll never write#wip#personal#hurt/comfort#monologue#writing#writers of tum#poets on tumblr#love letters#web weaving#spilled ink#march
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Everything with me is either worship and passion or pity and understanding. I hate rarely, though when I hate, I hate murderously.
Anaïs Nin, from The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1931-1932
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Ted Hughes, Tales from Ovid; from ‘Echo and Narcissus’
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Taking a walk because it feels good going to bed on time because it feels good waking up earlier because it feels good eating enough fruit because it feels good doing a workout because it feels good cooking myself a nice meal because it feels good staying in contact with friends because it feels good… sometimes joy is work but it’s always worth it
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@sandarafreedompark / Sade Andria Zabala / Unknown / @danielederossi / Kiki Nicole / Giovanni Gasparro / Trista Mateer / Anne Sexton / The Coral
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on love and names
ocean vuong on earth we’re briefly gorgeous (via @kaleesa35) \ c.t. salazar headless john the baptist hitchhiking \ fredrick backman anxious people
kofi
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