iroseo - Tumblr blog

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a wip of an illustration im workin on of some 'toos

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Adri Pieck

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I feel like a deer that’s been hit by a car and left to die almost everyday of my life btw

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“Oh, you know, you realize that grief is perhaps the last and final translation of love. And I think, you know, this is the last act of loving someone. And you realize that it will never end. You get to do this, to translate this last act of love for the rest of your life. And so, you know, it's– really, her absence is felt every day.

“And ever since I lost her, I felt that my life has been lived in only two days, if that makes any sense. You know, there's the today, where she is not here, and then the vast and endless yesterday where she was, even though it's been three years since. How many months and days? But I only see it in — with one demarcation. Two days — today without my mother, and yesterday, when she was alive. That's all I see. That's how I see my life now.”

-Ocean Vuong, NPR

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Richard Siken, Cover Story

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the sun mourns in vain for the white-throated rail: a comic about disability and the unwanted able-bodied grief for past selves.

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION:

Page 1: The sun holds a white-throated rail, a bird with a red head, a gray body, and a white throat, in its hands. The sun speaks in a tone represented as sorrowful pity through a drippy speech bubble.

Sun: Looking at you makes me sad!

Rail: What?

Page 2:

Sun: Looking at you makes me sad!

The sun stands with a hand clutching its face.

Sun: How miserable it must be to be flightless! Don’t you yearn for the skies? Don’t you wake up grieving you’re still on land?

Page 3: The white-throated rail looks down in frustration in the hand of the sun.

Sun: (speaking off screen) I’d simply perish if I were you!

The rail speaks, looking down. Pink flowers bloom towards the bottom of the page, petals and pollen blowing in the wind.

Rail: Why do you put your words in my beak and your grief in my feathers? Am I not beautiful?

Page 4: The bone of a white-throated rail is positioned against a colorful galaxy dotted with flecks of stars.

Rail: Am I not adaptability in action? Am I not evolution in motion? Do you mourn the days you weren’t a star? Do you mourn when the sky was cold, how unbearably hot you must burn to keep embracing it every day?

Page 5: The sun looks at the viewer.

Sun: Why would I? That was then, this is now. I am content to be in this state.

Page 6: The rail looks up at the sun off-screen.

Rail: Well…So am I.

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Chainsaw Man | チェンソーマン – Chapter 41 ⊙ Before the Storm

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Workers out for lunch in Tokyo's Shimbashi district, Friday.

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Franco Matticchio

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crow 585

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whenever I go out in public I feel like such an outsider like was I ever meant to be human? can I go back home?

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Miyajima - Hiroshima, Japan