Sappho - Translation From Anne Carson’ S “If Not, Winter”

a summer like call me by your name >>

“A lot of people tell me I’m a bit dreamy. But I like the idea of that. Of being somewhere else.”

— Alex Turner 

if you write me poetry, buy me paints, or sing to me- just go ahead and propose, because i’m yours forever.

idk but do you guys ever look up from reading a book and get disoriented because you’re actually in your bedroom or lying on a couch or in a library or somewhere that isn’t the story?

do you ever get in those moods where you don’t feel like reading and you don’t feel like being on the internet and you don’t feel like watching a show and you don’t feel like sleeping and you don’t feel like existing in general

Faceless bodies → Whisper of the Heart (1995)

thinking about Kait Rokowski writing, "nothing ever ends poetically, it ends and we turn it into poetry. all that blood was never once beautiful. it was just red." and losing it

poem: my favorite book

i let you borrow my book

and i am still waiting for it back—

i wonder if you are too afraid

to tell me that you have lost it,

or if you are still reading it and

only got distracted—

does it sit on your shelf gaining dust

like it did on mine till you borrowed it,

are you reading the notes i etched in margins,

are you writing your own?

did you wonder how the spine got so cracked,

how much i must have loved it,

and how i let it go to you

all the same—

it has been months since you took it from

my grasp,

and even though there is no time limit

on its return,

i just want to know,

do you enjoy

my favorite book?

-j.g. edge

we're all kind of weird and twisted and drowning.

~ Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood