Idk Broskis I Think Aglamation Sounds Better Than Amalgamation Even If It’s Not A Word

Sometimes I read so I don’t have to be stuck inside my mind with my thoughts, sometimes I read when I feel burnt out and feel like giving up and letting go of everything, sometimes I read when I feel like the world is against me and there’s no one I can rely on so I escape to a different world instead. But mostly I read because of the stories I can relate to, to the happiness, sadness, and struggles of people who exist only on paper and in my imagination.

the fact that is impossible for me, in one life, to study classical studies, archaeology, international relations, all the literature in the world, get a languages degree in italian, german, greek, latin, russian and french; learn how to play the violin and also piano, cello, guitar and the flute; learn how to sing, both modern singing and classical singing/opera; is my villain origin story.

my tumblr isn't even a blog, it's just a hideous amalgamation of all my hyperfixations from the last decade.

me: *finishes a book*

me: it's time to go on tumblr and reblog every post about the book

this is what it means to be human

Everything, Mary Oliver

The Breathing, Denise Levertov

A Prayer by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski

Like a Small Café, That’s Love by Mahmoud Darwish (translated by Mohammad Shaheen)

Having a Coke with You by Frank O’Hara

Eating Together by Li-Young Lee

The Orange by Wendy Cope

The Quiet Machine, Ada Limón

To Go Mad, Paruyr Sevak

Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled with Shrieks by Christopher Citro

Hammond B3 Organ Cistern, Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Peace XVIII, Khalil Gibran

Your Unripe Love, Paruyr Sevak (from “Anthology of Armenian poetry")

Here and Now by Peter Balakian

Ich finde dich (I find you) by Rainer Maria Rilke

The Thing Is by Ellen Bass

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

Miss you. Would like to take a walk with you. by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

I Want to Write Something So Simply by Mary Oliver

What's Not to Love by Brendan Constantine

Where does such tenderness come from? by Marina Tsvetaeva

You Are Tired (I Think) by E. E. Cummings

Living With the News by W.S.Merwin

What the Living Do by Marie Howe

I just want to be a little hobbit living daily life in the golden days of the Shire. Newly plucked flowers decorating my curly hair, picking vegetables from the garden to place in my basket, a fresh, warm pie cooling on the counter, and wandering the hillsides in my bare feet…what a dream that would be…

gonna start decomposing soon for so many reasons

reblog to decompose

you know you want to

Someone better tell me my beauty never ever scared them or I’m suing

dear author of my life,

respectively, what the actual fuck

Ok fine, I’ll make one of these too

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