Leonardo Da Vinci Sketches X

brontë sister supremacy

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

George Orwell, 1984

It's always: "wanna hang out" but never "hey let's create a secret society and read literature and poetry"

This very morning, my history professor picked up the book I was reading, looked me in the eye, and said “Don’t read Wuthering Heights.” He then proceeded to walk away and continue class.

with my papers not proofread and my manuscripts unfinished, i thread on through the world

Eyes

Eyes of flowing honey,

eyes of swirling ocean.

Is there really so much of a difference?

Both marred with scars,

painfully etched in over the years by family and friends and society itself.

A father filled with rage,

a mother who never wanted her.

One desperate to fit in with American society and one forever distancing herself from it.

One knowing nothing about himself and the other knowing everything about the both of them.

Yet, when their eyes meet all the scars seem to smooth over,

the raging sea calms,

the honey travels far from the fearsome bees of its past.

And, when they are inevitably torn apart?

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."

She

She is marble

She is glass—

All that falls to the floor

And cracks

She is snowdrop

She is rose—

All that wilts on its stem

And dies

Why must I compare her

To a flower

Or a statue—

Is not being enough?

She is not delicate

She is not rock

She is human

When she is cut

Blood spills

Is not brown hair

And freckles

And honey-shining eyes

Enough?

For this world

Plainly not.

How could I lead myself to think?

For a moment

For a second

When Haruki Murakami said, "Sometimes I feel like a caretaker of a museum - a huge, empty museum where no one ever comes, and I'm watching over it for no one but myself." And when Audrey Hepburn said, "Living is like tearing through a museum. Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering - because you can't take it in all at once."