Text
No one has taken anything away, Marina Tsvetaeva (translated by Elaine Feinstein)
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
June, 1936 Journals of Anais Nin 1934-1939 [volume 2]
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
"A Shirt Made of Fire", Vardges Petrosyan (translated by metamorphesque)
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
My little brother
Last Sunday I went to a catholic sanctuary with my family to celebrate my father’s birthday. We went at night to go pray the Rosary, and as they were saying the intentions my little brother started crying.
“Today, we pray for world peace in Gaza and in Ukrain.” the priest said.
And then, when my father asked what was wrong, he answered:
“Have you seen the state of the world! It’s just so sad!”
That got me thinking: when did our souls lost that kind of inocence? I mean, my brother’s 10 years old, he has gone through some sad, heartwrecking things, but still he did lose his inocence and his tireless will to seek the good. Why do we lose that? I find it hard to believe that we lose it because so many people do us wrong all our lives. And why did we stop being good?
When did being good start to look like a weakness? Goodness shows our strong will and our desire to live fully rather than badness. Badness in the sense that it represents the need to hide our truthfull persona, to gaslight everyone into thinking we don’t care about nothing, that that whole YOLO thing is sustainable. But most of all in the sense that we lose that kind of blind inocence that made us children. Being that person keeps us from being emocionally free.
Showing our emotions is an important part of being human. If we can’t do that are we even alive? If I can’t run over to someone and tell them that I love them, am I even an emotional being? To feel compassion, to feel love, to feel sadness, to feel that I’ve hit rockbottom, it all makes us human. If we allow ourselves to not feel it we are lying to everyone and ourselves.
I wish I had kept that. I wish I could see the world the way I saw it as a child. Everything was so much bigger than us, but we didn’t feel scared rather than inspired to be big and to go into adventures. Why did I lose it? I ask myself that many times. When did I stop being content with what I had and wanted more and more?
Now I look at my little brother and pray that he doesn’t lose that. That he could grow to be one those rarely seen actually nice guys that treat everyone with respect and kindness regardless of their own lives.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nostalgia
I’ve recently found myself surrounded by memories. I have the habit of living in the past so this comes as no suprise. Only, that this time around, is the nostalgia of a time I don’t recall that well that is on my mind. A time where I only remember the feeling and not the image of those times. In sort of a sentimental nostalgia.
Take this as an example: my first day in orchestra class.
Visually what I remember is a L shaped room full of students and noise. They were tunning. Me and some other 5 students stood there not quite knowing what to do. The teacher/maestro walks in and the class gets quieter. Then the teacher - shout out to the best maestro ever, Alexandre Madeira - and he says: ��As you might’ve noticed we’ve got some new people this year. Those who are new please stand up and say your name.” We looked at each other and stood up and each one of us, shyly, said our name and sat down. The maestro explained how the classes worked and we listened carefully.
I didn’t fall in love with the class right away. Firstly, because it ended at 8 pm in a friday, secondly because I felt like I didn’t belong to the big group, you know? Like I wasn’t part of the orchestra. But then this older girl that sat next to me in class started talking to me. She played the accordion and I play the cello and, despite that, she help me a lot and we became good friends. Since then I became excited to go to class, and, when I understood that I was part of it, I fell in love. When I understood that my sound made a diference in the whole of the orchestra, I fell in love.
Today that girl texted me inviting me and some of the people from those times to have a lunch someday. In the moment her name popped up in my screen all of those feelings and memories came rushing back and it was quite nice. I hope I remembered more things like the name of some of the people who played with me. I feel like I could’ve been their friend but 3 months after the episode I narrated, COVID hit us and I didn’t go to class for the next 2 years which was really sad.
Sentimentally, I have to say that I feel this sort of regret and pitty for not having enjoyed it more. Like as if I wished I had been born earlier and had been part of that for a longet time, I mean now I’m one the oldest member of the orchestra, next year I’ll be the oldest member. Everytime I walk into that classroom I feel what I felt that day only that now I wish I didn’t have to leave it even though I know it is time to let it go.
0 notes
Text
Inosculation, a natural phenomenon in which trunks, roots or branches of two trees grow together. When branches or roots from different trees are in prolonged intimate contact, they often abrade each other exposing their inner tissues, which may eventually fuse.
17K notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm all the people i've ever loved
loseness lines over time by olivia de recat, @i-wrotethisforme, Kaveh Akbar, Olivie Blake
22K notes
·
View notes
Text
— Susan Sontag, Death Kit
[text ID: How can I describe my life to you? I think a lot, listen to music. I’m fond of flowers.]
25K notes
·
View notes
Text
I died a lot to live a little with you.
Yaghma Golroei
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
It was with the same hand that touched my hair and my hips that you used to hurt me and to comfort me while everything fell to pieces. The hand that held mine when I felt like drowing in the river.
It was with the same lips that had touched my cheek, my lips and my knuckles that you placed a soft kiss on my forehead and left. Those same lips touch her skin now, those same lips tell her all the things you once said to me.
I never quite understood what that was all about: the hair, the charm, those beautiful green eyes. They were never just mine, you shared all of your jokes, your stories with every girl you met. I just thought that maybe you were the only one to know about my birthmarks. Maybe I am stupid for believing in you. But maybe I'm not and my ability of giving myself so fully to others is good. But right now I just feel like the most stupid person to ever exist.
#ramblings#professional yapper#yapping#stupid post#hell is a teenage girl#dating#fypシ#foryou#formula 1 fanfic
0 notes
Text
Palazzo Martelli. Florence, Italy
Photo by Massimo Listri
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
I just want someone who looks at me the way Lenny Bruce looks at Midge
352 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sharon Olds, from "Something Is Happening", One Secret Thing: Poems
23K notes
·
View notes
Text
I want to go back to Santiago de Compostela, I think it really is my home.
1 note
·
View note