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dont be embarrassed about something u enjoy ok 

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The most evil person you know is posting about being a people pleaser

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this is genuinely the greatest advice out there. i don't even think there's anything i can add just read it again and again. from rainer maria rilke. aka chill :)

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Madonna in a Fur Coat by Sabahattin Ali

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Alice Notley

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push me to run

the men I write are cursed to be nothing more than lines of text on a screen. destined to be muses, immortalized by meaning, scrutinized, discarded. like the teeth marks on my knuckles, teardrops on the touchpad, the silent screams of anguish, as the hooks of attachment break the surface of skin was I always a runner? maybe. however, I was never the architect of the racetrack

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waiting for a text sucks

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I want to touch your scars in complete light, when i can see them. so next time i can trace them and whisper to them in darkness. i want to know them by heart.

I want to kiss the moles in your skin. I want to number them. like a crazy lover, I say that number when asked what my favorite number is. i want to swallow your silence until yours words pour forth. what would be the first thing you'd say? "you are beautiful" or "stay forever"? why hide so much my love?

I want to hear what comes after your sweet humming. i want to etch the words on my skin and wear it proudly. the songs you listen to are so exotic. I long to discover the meaning behind the song in your voice. Those ecstatic lyrics and your reading of it is what makes me love you a little more, my love!

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When Dostoevsky said, "Pain changes you, but it teaches. That is its mercy." but Kafka said, "Pain changes nothing. It just repeats itself until you forget who you were before it started."

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I ask him what his biggest fear is and he tells me he worries he won’t grow up to be like his father. I ask him another big fear and he tells me he dreads that he will grow up to be his father. Our fathers house more than the crevices of our DNA, always a shadow looming. And the fears flow, a constant oscillation, pendulum of beliefs- I wish I was like you, I wish I become nothing like you. And in the middle, a child suspended, a child frightened.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

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sadly, yeah

The true “recession indicator” is the rising prominence of sex work. Btw.

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me

May 18, 1926 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]

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how do people move on so easily? For love of god, i cant.

i paint my nails red and i wear my boots.

i wake up each day, surviving you. all i wanted was to love you, now i am left with myself in your absence. i lost track of of the time when i actively brush you off my mind.

The Intimacy of never speaking again. should i expect from you? should i wonder about the girl in your life?

You always do this, leaving me wondering. I feel disappointed. I hate to admit it, but a text from you would ground me. I know what they say. Find closure within you. I have tried, and I have failed miserably.

for once, just text me, ask me questions.

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propaganda a lot of y’all should fall for:

whispering “thanku” to your tea or coffee before the first sip.

telling your friends you love them when they least expect it. especially then.

googling “what kind of flower blooms twice” at 3 a.m. to feel hopeful again

deleting apps every two weeks and calling it a spiritual reset.

naming your plants like they’re ur friends. apologizing when you forget to water them.

believing ur younger self would still think you’re cool. even on your worst days.

using perfume before bed. for no one. for you.

making eye contact with yourself in the mirror when you cry. giving the pain an audience.

taking selfies when you feel awful. proof you existed even when the light wasn’t flattering :-)

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My birthdayyyyy

Louisa May Alcott, from Little Women

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i love this

propaganda i am not falling for:

always moving on. some goodbyes need to rot a little. some griefs need to be held in the mouth like a stone.

beauty defined by algorithms. beauty exists in crow feet and smile lines

pretending to be chill. i’m not chill. i care deeply and inconveniently. i read into things. i write poems about eye contact

beige apartments with no soul. give me bookshelves and incense and loud art

sneaky links and unclear intentions. i want devotion. and also clarity

treating books as decor. read them. dog-ear them. argue with them in the margins