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Simone de Beauvoir, from Diary of a Philosophy Student: Volume 1, 1926-27

Text ID: I observe how much I have matured since last year despite my belief that I was losing myself, how something strong was born from the painful experiences survived and from the numerous minutes that I believed were wasted.

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Ursula K. Le Guin, “Author’s Note” from The Left Hand of Darkness

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*feels my body get anxious for no reason* what is it boy, what do you see?

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It's hard, it's very hard. But it's not harder than the way they want us to live, which is in categories. And, it's far more productive.

audre lorde speaking about multiplicity of self:

I find I am constantly encouraged to pluck out some aspect of myself and present this as the meaningful whole, eclipsing or denying the other parts of self. But this is a destructive and fragmenting way to live. My fullest concentration of energy is available to me only when I integrate all the parts of who I am, openly, allowing power from particular sources of my living to flow back and forth freely through all my different selves, without the restrictions of externally imposed definition. Only then can I bring myself and my energies as a whole to the services of those struggles which I embrace as part of my living.

&

It has felt, at different points in my life, like every single way in which I would identify myself was in total conflict with every other way. First of all, there's always going to be some group or some person who wants you to talk from only one particular perspective. That's very destructive. It's like putting all the eggs in one basket. It also reduces you to one component, and it's just such a terrible injustice to all the other pieces of yourself. It cuts me off from the energy that comes from all those different pieces. So integration is absolutely necessary. I have to work on integration for myself. You have to do it for yourself. What I've learned, and this was indeed a learning process, is that it is absolutely essential not to allow pieces of myself to be at war with each other . . . But as long as you let yourself be baffled, as long as you let one piece of yourself be cancelled out by another, you will always be subject to the kind of turmoil that sucks energy away. It's hard, it's very hard. But it's not harder than the way they want us to live, which is in categories. And, it's far more productive.

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blood test came back haunted

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hate how university makes you endlessly question yourself which is actually the most destructive counterproductive force for people who genuinely want to achieve something in life

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Sometimes, if you’re lucky, there will be a tree outside your bedroom window. It is very important to romanticize this tree as much as possible.

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Michael A Davenport, 3,090 Degrees Fahrenheit (Oil on canvas, 2025)

30in x 48in

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don’t worry there’s always watch movie in bed

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i zoned out a few years ago and never zoned back in

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Ingmar Bergman

Ingeborg Bachmann

Ingrid bergman

IngBrid berhachmanndjaowhdhd

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"Anyone who writes is a seeker. You look at a blank page and you're seeking. The role is assigned to us and never removed. I think this is an unbelievable blessing. I mean, to be seventy-eight years old and still looking -- this amazes me."

-Louise Glück 

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Louise Glück, from “Unpainted Door”, Poems 1962-2012

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My favorite part about being sapphic is when the things I love about other women become things I love about myself. One day I was tracing another woman’s stretch marks in a dim bedroom light. And then, seemingly by accident, I was doing it to myself in my bathroom mirror. I loved the feeling of a full hand of flesh when I grabbed a woman’s hips, and then mine didn’t need to be so skinny anymore. I looked at a woman’s lower stomach pudge and thought it was so soft and cute, then never wanted a flat stomach again. Loving women can be so healing when you come from a world that doesn’t.

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tumblr is so intimate like… i do not act like this around people i know…

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Only grownups think that the things children say come out of nowhere. We know they come from the deepest parts of ourselves.

bell hooks, Bone Black.

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Etel Adnan, Beirut 1982, in We Begin Here. Poems for Palestine and Lebanon, Edited by Kamal Boullata and Kathy Engel, Interlink Books, Northampton, MA, 2007, pp. 226-233