leahkentwriter

[leahkentwriter]

"𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠𝘩 𝐼 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝐼 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑡; 𝑂𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝐼𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑊𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘩𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟. 𝐼'𝑑 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐼'𝑑 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑠, 𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑏𝑦𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑑 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑."

― Benedict Smith

[leahkentwriter]

The moon is rising over the top of my neighbor's house

And somewhere in the distance, sirens are wailing

[leahkentwriter]

Today's poetic background with one of my favorite instrumental pieces:

It takes a cello to capture longing.

[leahkentwriter]

Crow and blossom, 小原 又雄 Ohara Koson, 1910

[leahkentwriter]

Smoke-bathing chimneystack rook: photo by Tom Kennedy

via

[leahkentwriter]

Neither you nor I severed. There is no need for bloodshed between us. No need for a wound to remind us that blood exists. It flows within us, from us. Blood is familiar, close.

Luce Irigaray, When Our Lips Speak Together

[leahkentwriter]

Poetics

[leahkentwriter]

Bees, and After, John Liles

[leahkentwriter]

— Margaret Atwood, ‘Variation on the Word Sleep’ from Selected Poems II: 1976-1986 (via lunamonchtuna)

[leahkentwriter]

— Agha Shahid Ali, ‘Even the Rain’, from Call Me Ishmael Tonight (via lunamonchtuna)

[leahkentwriter]

(via lunamonchtuna)

[leahkentwriter]

Replaced my normal lightbulbs with these psychedelic lightbulbs because life is weird right now and the little amusements matter.

[leahkentwriter]

it's all in the eyes

[leahkentwriter]

[leahkentwriter]

💯

what doesn't kill you makes you weird at intimacy

[leahkentwriter]

Still, I write. Still, I resist. Because silence would be to surrender.

@kameneva

[leahkentwriter]