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you have a touch of homesickness — half for my body, half for the grave

Miguel Hernández, from “My heart can’t go on any longer” (tr. by Timothy Baland)

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“I am the shape you made me. Filth teaches filth.”

— Sophokles, from Elektra, An Oresteia: Agamemnon by Aiskhylos; Elektra by Sophokles; Orestes by Euripides (tr. Anne Carson)

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𝕋𝔻

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[T]error is naturally and abundantly part of life, part of even the most becalmed, intelligent, sunny life […] The world where the owl is endlessly hungry and endlessly on the hunt is the world in which I live too. There is only one world.

Mary Oliver, Upstream  (via feralseraph)

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ronny/lily | Barry (2018– )

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Oscar Isaac in A MOST VIOLENT YEAR (2014) dir. J.C. Chandor

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@frxmeden

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You don’t think about it every day or it would rise up and consume you. It just remained there, nameless, a sad, dark thing that weighed you down only some of the time. When the memory became too faint, too abstract, it would transform itself into an old rotator cuff injury, a pain so thin yet so sharp that he could trace the line of it all the way across his shoulder blade and down his back.

Authority by Jeff VanderMeer (via wackydeli097)

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Javier Peña being the biggest mood