ROMANTICISATION

You are not as tired of diaspora poetry as I am of the diaspora. Sometimes

I thank God that I was born inside an American -made tank. Sometimes I weep within

the beast.

— Omar Sakr, from “A Beautiful Child,” The Lost Arabs

details + variations

i was so angry at everything when i was 13. and i was right

with my brain small, my meat huge, my pain endless, i tread onwards

Arm Reliquary of Saint Sahak Partev (Late 17th–Early 18th Century, Armenia) [1680 × 2048]

a lot of greek myth enthusiasts on this site have never actually read a greek myth and it shows

mood: bedridden victorian child

papah …… am i going to die ?

pâpâ…………i’m colde ….

will grándmama be there? in the light??

really cant fucking believe that people are getting genuinely angry about a tv show about…cleaning your house…. and calling it ableist cause….they dont wanna clean… i guess

‘Man shouldn’t be able to see his own face – there’s nothing more sinister. Nature gave him the gift of not being able to see it, and of not being able to stare into his own eyes.

Only in the water of rivers and ponds could he look at his face. And the very posture he had to assume was symbolic. He had to bend over, stoop down, to commit the ignominy of beholding himself.

The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart.’

— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (1982)

i love the sims but everything after creating them feels so empty… feel like a bored god who’s only hubris was thinking he could create something beautiful……

*doing a tarot card reading* uh oh… this guy has a sword… better watch out for that…

— Bella Akhmadulina, from The Garden; “Features of an Artist’s Studio” (Tr. F.D. Reeve)

When lemony snicket said “i will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong. i will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled. i will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time. i will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. i will love you if you don’t marry me. i will love you if you marry someone else, and i will love you if you have a child, and i will love you if you have two children, or three children, or even more, although I personally think three is plenty, and i will love you if you never marry at all, and never have children, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all, and I must say that on late, cold nights i prefer this scenario out of all the scenarios i have mentioned. that, beatrice, is how i will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way”

Some of y’all haven’t become so disillusioned with your own reality that you spend years of your life daydreaming about entirely made up worlds and people and it shows

I love how the romantics were unable to tell if they were feverish or experiencing an (1) emotion.