Communication Would Be Easy For Him If You’re The Woman He Actually Wanted.

i love it when a piece of media is like: is there anything more painful than knowing your sibling? is there anything more tragic than knowing they are the only person who will ever share the same experience as you? they were the only constant in your life. they were there since birth and now, no matter how they betray you, you will still love them. you will always feel the need to protect them even if you can no longer bring yourself to talk to them. will anyone else be able to understand? will anybody be able to love you and hate you and fear you the same way a sibling loves you and hates you and fears you? no, probably not

so funny how he sought me time and time again, then left like he didn't start most of our conversations

A stupid, desperate boy who wallows in self-pity, blaming his friends for leaving him. I know you, [...], though you may not know yourself. You left them. And you'd do it again.

So go, [...] run home, or starve in the Blight. It doesn't matter to me, because you don't matter. Just spare me the misery of your company.

rindo mt com essa palhaçada de cutuals porque se vc pensar de uma perspectiva do português... eh, eu concordo

I think I've seen this filme before so I'm leaving out the side door

[sexting] no live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.

a needle in me would fix me like whether that’s a lobotomy, a drug, a piercing, or a tattoo, I don’t really care.

to the person in the bell jar...

Sylvia Plath, from ‘The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath’ / Vilhelm Hammershøi / Nicole Krauss, from ‘The History of Love’ / Ramon Casas / Joy Harjo, from ‘Speaking Tree’ / D S (saatchiart) / Fyodor Dostoevsky, from ‘The Idiot’ / Aleardo Terzi / Sylvia Plath, from ‘The Bell Jar’

buy me a coffee

right person, wrong time (variations on heartbreak)

@leemartenspoetry on tumblr

vita sackville-west & fegan’s 1924 café in dublin

everything everywhere all at once (2022)

@heavensghost on tumblr

i had to get out by indigo de souza

‘calling a wolf a wolf' by kaveh akbar

river by joni mitchell

‘english song’ in a little larger than the entire universe: selected poems by fernando pessoa

slumber by ron hicks

fish in exile by vi khi nao

penitent magdalene by antonio ciseri

@ojibwa on tumblr

this is what the drugs are for by gracie abrams & the awakening by angelo morbelli

as good as it gets by fizz

lonely this christmas by mud & picture of the christmas tree at trinity college dublin, taken by me in december of 2022

this is what the drugs are for by gracie abrams & picture by andrew collins via globalnews.ca

@inanotherunivrs on tumblr & a polaroid of me taken by my ex-boyfriend

‘in a dream you saw a way to survive’ by clementine von radics & a picture of my ex-boyfriend's window, taken by me

bluets by maggie nelson & the poolbeg generating station, dublin

‘unrequited’ by sasha m george & inheritance by matthew w. cornell

[unknown]

@ faraway on instagram & lavender sprigs farm cut by linda jacobus

the museum of heartbreak by meg leder

[unknown]

‘seaside improvisation’ by richard siken

@ dracarysgang on twitter

@-love-letters-i-never-sent

@fromdarzaitoleeza on tumblr

explosions by ellie goulding

‘i had a dream about you’ by richard siken

the beatrice letters by lemony snicket

la la land (2016)

‘catalog of unabashed gratitude’ by ross gay

@stuckinapril on tumblr

@deathlywounded on tumblr

some are always hungry by jihyun yun

‘speaking practice’ by franny choi

 a self-portrait in letters by anna sexton & a picture of my ex-boyfriend in a lake in Orfű, Hungary

@sunsbleeding on tumblr

‘there is no absolution for the fallen, only the dying’ by p.d

girls who are doomed by the narrative!! girls who have been dead since the beginning. girls who are dragged into death not kicking and screaming but clinging on to the brink until their fingers ache with the weight of the years they’ve stolen. girls who’s every last words are already etched on the stone of an open and waiting grave.