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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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— Nelly Sachs, from “The Seeker.”
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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after it was over, i sat in the clouds, watching the wings of the plane disrupt the sky. i imagined you as a tiny thing on the ground. thought it strange how two small hands disappearing could hold the whole world for someone. even now, when i’m supposed to know better, i look for you in unlikely places. wonder if you’ll wander into my hotel lobby or the new brunch place my friends chose. i love you when i don’t mean to. when i’m in a new city and any street could be your street. when i’m in an elevator and the doors could open to your perfect hair falling into your perfect face. but since i can’t have you, i do what helps and i pray for you. i pray your hands never tremble when you wish them steady. i pray your laugh always comes from the most honest part of you and not the top of your throat like it does when you’re pretending. and since we’re saying embarrassing things, then i’ll say this too. on my way out from detroit last week i wanted them to stop me at security and say someone somewhere is waiting and they need you right here. but no one even looked at me twice. i don’t know if you’ve even been to detroit. if you like traveling. if you get sick on airplanes. if you grew up in the same house your whole life or if you moved twelve times. if your parents are good to you. if you also love people who were once living and loved you back and now are no longer living. if you think they can still love us from over there. i do now, but a while back i used to think that when each person i loved died, a part of me was erased until there was a very small part of me left and that small part wouldn’t be enough to hold me up and my life would end where it began. but that’s not true. to love someone even once
is enough to live forever. 
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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i was not tender and kind today i did not walk gently i slammed a door and birds scattered my sadness was brimming outside of me it wanted to touch the earth i wasn’t a part of it wanted to be held by something that wouldn’t make a fist around it in my head i’m made of sunlight but in real life i walk into rooms and darken every corner in real life i am every shadow in real life i am evidence of light somewhere far far away
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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“Still, I am very lonely… sometimes it shows up like a continent shifting into my chest. I’m so tired of being empty. I turned it inside out and wore it like a glove, smeared it on the walls until my house shouted empty, empty, empty. I didn’t know what to do with it afterward. All I know is that it hurts to be in the spaces between freedom.”
— Akwaeke Emezi, from Freshwater
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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“I want to tell her that I want so badly to be a part of this world, to stand in it, but every hand I touch withholds warmth. The world gathers everywhere beyond me.”
— Victoria Chang, from “Dear Father”, Dear Memory: Letters on Writing, Silence, and Grief (via voirlvmer)
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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“Sometimes I miss you the way someone drowning remembers the air.”
— Tim Seibles, “Slow Dance” (via feellng)
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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Pour water over each wound. What about the wound inside me, the wound I was born into? Where do I pour when I am the wound? I am what wounds me.
Sanna Wani, from “Princess Mononoke (1997)”, My Grief, the Sun (via voirlvmer)
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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I thought of you. In tears and in laughter I thought of you.
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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“I didn’t yearn for anything but privacy, because it is an embarrassment to be a wound in public.”
— Billy-Ray Belcourt, from A History of My Brief Body
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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― Rainer Maria Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge
[text id : “To be loved means to be consumed. To love means to radiate with inexhaustible light. To be loved is to pass away, to love is to endure.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge]
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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the night sky reminds me of you
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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lana was right... I want someone to eat ice cream with... and watch television... and walk home from the mall with...
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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it’s a CRIME that there’s no studio version of Arijit Singh covering Lag Jaa Gale
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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“I swear to you that to think too much is a disease, a real, actual disease.”
-Fyoder Dostoyevsky
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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The poem shapes itself in tears.
Boris Pasternak,  20th Century Russian Poetry: Silver and Steel, from ‘February...’, tr. Yakov Hornstein
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chalwahanjaatehain · 1 year
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“I’m the one who ruined me: I did it myself.”
— Haruki Murakami (via melisica)
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