secrets-i-whisper-to-the-moon - Tumblr blog

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Joseph Brodsky, translated by Howard Moss, from a poem titled "I Sit By The Window,"

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just a reminder to COMPLETELY boycott Eurovision this year; Azerbaijan and Israel, despite committing genocide, are STILL allowed to compete & have NOT been banned. by refusing to ban both countries, Eurovision is profiting off of the genocide of Palestinians and Armenians.

do not listen to the artists. do not pirate or stream the artists' music, and this applies to ALL the artists who are competing and performing this year. do not listen to the songs on ANY platform, do not give them ANY attention.

write to your broadcasters and tell them you REFUSE to watch the channels until they recognise the Armenian and Palestinian genocides & that you find it disgusting how they are allowing Eurovision despite Azerbaijan and Israel's entries.

do NOT give eurovision OR the competing artists ANYTHING but silence.

boycott ALL of eurovision.

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"Pomegranate juice seeps from my mouth But I do not taste the sweetness It tastes of blood His fingers slide it into my mouth and I try not to swallow its seeds I think of eve as I stare at the walls I see her in the garden of eden An apple in Adams hand I wonder Did the apple taste sweet? As it was forced upon her lips Or of blood."

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“Do not bring people into your life who weigh you down. And trust your instincts. Good relationships feel good. They feel right. They don’t hurt.”

— Michelle Obama

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“May your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn't such a moment sufficient for the whole of one's life?” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

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One day you think: I want to die. And then you think, very quietly, actually I want a coffee. I want a nap. A sandwich. A book. And I want to die turns day by day into I want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friends, I want to sit in the sun. I want a cleaner room, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else, I want to live.

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“Your hand is cold, mine burns like fire. How blind you are, Nastenka!” ― Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights

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kon :) from an animation i will finish eventually

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Hanif Abdurraqib, They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us

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me. me when a poem says something ive felt before

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