Latest Posts by lrs35 - Page 10
i am a simple creature. every day i am sleepy
“you’re in love with a boy who is a prayer on your lips with no god to go to. he’s bleeding sunlight and you’re trying to patch up the holes in his heart with trembling fingers and the blood keeps spilling. you’re in love with him, here’s the best part: he loves you more than his own life. he’s golden as they come but he’s bleeding out. one day, someone will strike a match on him and he’ll explode. so, here’s the worst part: he loves you so much more than his own life.”
— sunlit lovers | m.j.
“You don’t know anyone at the party, so you don’t want to go. You don’t like cottage cheese, so you haven’t eaten it in years. This is your choice, of course, but don’t kid yourself: it’s also the flinch. Your personality is not set in stone. You may think a morning coffee is the most enjoyable thing in the world, but it’s really just a habit. Thirty days without it, and you would be fine. You think you have a soul mate, but in fact you could have had any number of spouses. You would have evolved differently, but been just as happy. You can change what you want about yourself at any time. You see yourself as someone who can’t write or play an instrument, who gives in to temptation or makes bad decisions, but that’s really not you. It’s not ingrained. It’s not your personality. Your personality is something else, something deeper than just preferences, and these details on the surface, you can change anytime you like. If it is useful to do so, you must abandon your identity and start again. Sometimes, it’s the only way.”
— Julien Smith, The Flinch (via wnq-anonymous)
sun
tea, coffee
And is this train due in 0 minutes in the station with us right now?
in what order do you think it’s best to read dostoyevsky’s novels?
hey so this is a question i get asked quite often, so you know what? i made yall a handy chart
one thing about me is i will make a playlist
“if you’re ever lucky enough to have dreams about someone, and wake up right next to them, then you’ll know how i’ve felt the past week or so. with you i don’t have to be anybody. my name is just “yours.” i am stuck in a song. we are just sharks and butterflies. vicious and fragile. my neck isn’t the same without you gnawing at it.”
— ryan ross; thursday, december 22 2005
i cannot get mad at myself for not being good at answering texts and dms n emails n returning phone calls when i know in my heart that human beings were never meant to receive this much correspondence. even half as much would make you a busy person. like its ridiculous what we’re all doing to each other. smash your phones
sure your book is a new york times bestseller with a diverse and unique cast of characters, positive reviews from multiple well known authors and agencies, "ideal for fans of [popular published work] and [other popular published work]" and rated 4.99999999/5 stars on goodreads but does it have, like, a plot
the commodification of friendship is the most annoying thing to come out of the internet in ages. like actually i love to break this to you but you're supposed to help your friends move even if it's hard work. or stay up with them when they're sad even if you're gonna lose sleep. you're supposed to listen to their fears and sorrows even if it means your own mind takes on a little bit of that weight. that's how you know that you care. they will drive you to the airport and then you will make them soup when they're sick. you're supposed to make small sacrifices for them and they are supposed to do that for you. and there's actually gonna be rough patches for both of you where the balance will be uneven and you will still be friends and it will not be unhealthy and they will not be abusive. life is not meant to be an endless prioritization of our own comfort if it was we would literally never get anywhere ever. jesus.
just borned ! 🐶 pattern by destiny.makes
i swear it is physically impossible for me to read a mary oliver quote without immediately having to hold back tears. "you do not have to be good" and "someone i loved once gave me a box of darkness. it took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift" and "i don't want to end up having simply visited this world" and "to love what is mortal against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go" and "it is a serious thing / just to be alive / on this fresh morning / in this broken world" and oh fuck it's happening again
*through gritted teeth* you are not a child taking a test with the purpose of getting the highest score, you are an adult trying new things and finding ways to enjoy your life, make mistakes, be a beginner, be mediocre, be where you need to be, be unlikeable, just. be.
on the currency they should replace the queen with james from derry girls
she asked me if i believed in god and i told her that when i was four i almost drowned in a public pool and in my panic mistook a stranger for my father. i clawed my way up his leg. four years later he’d send my parents a picture of the scars alongside a tin of cookies. he said, “i hope she’s still okay. i carry her with me. it isn’t every day you save a life. it isn’t every day you feel like you were here for a reason. when it does happen, you have to cherish that memory. for once, i had a purpose. just being there was enough. she tore me open but she taught me a lot about love.”
i remember the feeling of teenage obsession, and i miss it desperately. few things about our everyday lives are more genuinely magical to me than the way that loving something with commitment can rewire your understanding of time: instead of dates or semesters, i can place moments of my early life inside the year where i only read vonnegut, the month i first loved the smiths, the autumn i spent with that rilke poem. it manages to make time physical — it turns it into something that can be tasted and touched. i want my life to be textured by the periods i spent perfecting a stone fruit hot honey cake or watching murder mysteries. wouldn’t it be wonderful to one day taste a cake and remember how you felt in september? i have many criticisms of rapid-fire, non-stop consumption, but none are so personal to me as this: when we submit to a cultural landscape that tells us to never stop looking for the new shiniest thing, we lose a kind of language for understanding ourselves and others. loving is a muscle that’s been strategically atrophied by a culture of manic consumption and constant availability.
- rayne fisher-quann
Paper Lamps by Sachie Muramatsu
will never forgive what corporations have done to feminism and how they have brainwashed countless young girls into thinking this new wave of feminism is how it should be. that they are rebelling by not being basic yet still being as pretty as humanly possible at all times. that the best place a girl can be is a ceo. that womanhood is sacred and divine and specific and cant be dirty or ugly or annoying or come in different shapes and sizes. we are slowly turning back to being pure and beautiful as possible through some warped ass tiktok “spirituality”
Full Moons 2023
this was always going to happen.
matthew stover, david levithan, margarita karapanou, aeschylus, karese burrows, richard siken
when anne carson said “what are we made of but hunger and rage?” and when anne carson said “i do not want to be a person. i want to be unbearable.” and when anne carson said “i am talking about evil. it blooms. it eats. it grins.” and when anne carson said “revenge is a form of desire.” and when anne carson said “to feel anything deranges you.” and when anne carson said “why does tragedy exist? because you are full of rage. why are you full of rage? because you are full of grief.” and when anne carson said
If you see this you’re legally obligated to reblog and tag with the book you’re currently reading