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#words mere words – @sluttyhenley on Tumblr
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we keep living anyway

@sluttyhenley / sluttyhenley.tumblr.com

m | this blog is a mess but i try to tag consistently | queer | she/her (but in an I just work here kind of way) | thirty flirty and thriving | tracking #userfrench | absolutely tag me in things | ourdarkspirits on ao3
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Ophelia (2018) // November Nights, Arden Mae // House of the Dragon (2022-) // Persephone Returns, Emily Rose Cole // Ophelia, Friedrich Wilhelm Theodor Heyser // Mystery of Love, Sufjan Stevens // Fire with Fire (1986) // Spring and All, Cathy Park Hong // On-drakón (2015) // The Complex Sentence, Tony Hoagland // The Musketeers (2014-2016) // [from a letter], Sylvia Plath // 1883 (2021-22) // The Leaving Season, Jihyun Yun // Dorian Gray (2009) // The Lady of Shalott, Alfred Tennyson // Anne of Green Gables (1985) // Advantages of Being Evergreen, Oliver Baez Bendorf // Ophelia, John Everett Millais // Hamlet, William Shakespeare // Melancholia (2011) // Wild Geese, Mary Oliver // Revenge of the Sith (2005) // Summer Morning, Mary Oliver

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bluevelvia

Holly Black, The Prisoner's Throne

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typodescript

[text: "I want," she says. "That's my problem. I want and I want and I want."

"What do you want?" he asks, voice soft.

"Everything. Charm me. Rip me open. Ruin me. Go too far."]

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hope is a skill

hope is a weapon you are trained to wield

favourite additions

You cannot hide this in the tags, bestie. This is too lovely to keep a secret.

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wonderwyrm

I must hope.

Hope is the eye-opener.

Hope is the little spark that brings total revolution.

I will behold my hope.

I will permit it to take root in me and around me.

And when it has gone past, I will continue to seek its path.

Where the hope has been, there will be life.

And I will join others in hope.

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The dead do not disappear after death. They persist, in their own minds as well as in ours. Again and again they return: sometimes envious, sometimes aggrieved, often just desperate for warmth. The message they bring back is always, in essence, the same: We live. We live. Our hearts burn.

Goodbye, Eastern Europe: An Intimate History of a Divided Land, Jacob Mikanowski

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