What I Could Never Confess Without Some Bravado By Emily Palermo // A Song For A Lover Of Long Time Ago

Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks 1964-1980

Mary Oliver

Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

“If a monster falls in love with another monster, is it desire? Is it fate? It’s tragedy.”

— thoughts #130 | r.m (via twofacedharveydent)

Besides, who knows what to do with love? It may not make it through one cigarette. And it’s enough to kill you, how dark it is how cold we seem even in our own misery all while knowing we will miss this. We will miss this when it ends.

— Alex Dimitrov, from “Winter Solstice,” Love and Other Poems

Sophokles, from Elektra; translated by Anne Carson in An Oresteia

Text ID: ELEKTRA: You have town away the part of my mind where hope was—

“Alleyways are a coffin–– this city is become my tomb. I am ghost: nameless, soon to be forgotten, another statistic for articles. Here lies NO-ONE, NO-BODY, child in an adult’s body. Heartless, warm, harsh/gentle, innocence stripped away too soon. Here lies a childhood. Alleyways are a coffin–– this city is become my tomb. Little child, lost: Another faceless child swallowed in the belly of a beast.”

— unmarked graves. (CNS)

the tragic hero attains something like divine completeness, except that for human beings completeness is death.

i would do anything you want me to

@emptystic // nothing but thieves “lover please stay” // richard siken “planet of love” // normal people (2020) // emily palermo “what i could never confess without some bravado” // phoebe bridgers“moon song” // phoebe bridgers “graceland too” // elisabeth hewer “dove hands” // roger rossel “caitlin ciara and rominuse” // normal people (2020) // stephen adly guirgis “the last days of judas iscariot”

“I am so filled with my love of her. At the same time I feel that I am dying.”

— The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934