I Believe That A Morning Should Never Describe A Day. Of Course, I Don’t Believe Mornings Listen To

I believe that a morning should never describe a day. Of course, I don’t believe mornings listen to mortal pleas and reasoning, but I try to enact this rule myself. Yet, it is a morning’s nature to bleed into your perception of a day, tint it with sorrow or with beauty. The only times when I forbid myself from enforcing this rule is when my day is unknowingly stricken with a morning of perfect quiescence, an awake before the world has begun to turn. Those rare mornings can feel free to pour through the seams of time and stain the parchment of afternoons and evenings a beautiful shade of rose. I’m quite a hypocrite, I do know.

More Posts from My-dearest-giulia and Others

3 years ago

To write is to cradle myth & memory both & emerge with the fact

of your flesh. I praise the first book that touched me because it was beautiful,

because it was written by a stranger born looking just a little like me & that made him beautiful, & in it

I find every person I’ve loved into godhood tunnelling through the page & beyond the echo

of those precious trees allowing breath: their shadows blurring into a wave, rich & urgent, to greet me.

— Natalie Wee, from “Self-Portrait as Pop Culture Reference,” Beast at Every Threshold

3 years ago

Women

"Women, they have minds, they have souls"

"the wholeness after everything toppled."

"I’m so sick of people saying love

is just all a woman is fit for."

"Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as understood."

"And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself,

because I could find no language to express them in."

"The poets are always correct,"

"What an effort to keep alive."

"The Revolution will end with the perfection of happiness."

but.

"The stars in their courses"

"fight against us, my friend."


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3 years ago
Cambridge, Nov 4 2017
Cambridge, Nov 4 2017

Cambridge, Nov 4 2017

3 years ago

To define is to limit, darling.

I never wish to be easily defined.


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2 years ago

She read books like she ran into the woods, each tree consuming her slowly as she disappeared into the green.


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3 years ago

"I want a boyfriend," no you want to pin a boy to a wall with a dagger to his throat, don't settle for less.

3 years ago
Italian Dialects Alignment Chart

Italian dialects alignment chart

3 years ago
PICNIC AT HANGING ROCK 1975 | Dir. Peter Weir  
PICNIC AT HANGING ROCK 1975 | Dir. Peter Weir  

PICNIC AT HANGING ROCK 1975 | dir. Peter Weir  

3 years ago

The feminine urge to mess up your whole sleep cycle to read books.

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