#A.s

[little-rat-man]

Seyss inquart

[mehirsvc]

Gözleri dalıyor sanardım bana bakarken, oysa ruhumu görmeye çalışıyormuş.

[nerdypeacebabu]

At a family get-together at my boyfriend's house he took me outside to walk around the garden and talk just us two and we held hands and talked and were surrounded by green grass and flowers and trees and we looked at the little pond and he showed me the little swing attached to the tree and we took turns pushing each other on it and he took me under the archway and kissed me and I felt like I was in a book written by a woman

[swan2swan]

Whoever conceived and animated this moment, I hope they're doing well and thriving. This is S-rank romance stuff here.

[seulementpourv]

Cerco riflessi di pace, in queste gocce di tempo che mi scivolano sulla pelle.

[aceartistactivist]

...you carved out a place for yourself, in the cavern of my mind, and even though it's empty now, the shape of where you were will always remain.

[a-heart-of-flame]

Hey I heard your doing free readings, I'm A.S, and I was wondering if hermes want anything and has a message for me

Hello A.S! Thank you for requesting a reading from me. I do not however channel divine messages (at least not yet!) and so I am sorry but this request I feel completely inadequate for. My tarot practice is focused almost entirely on personal development, but hopefully you will find another free reader who can help you ♥ If you should have any queries regarding your own personal development then you are most welcome to submit another request c: Much Love, Safi

[bluekidchaos]

okay i love seaver and i love her little father/daughter thing going on with rossi but she ALWAYS looks to be on the verge on crying like genuily always

[flowerytale]

A.S. Byatt, from Possession

[data-reel]

Titan A.E. - (2000) dir. Don Bluth, Gary Goldman, Art Vitello

[llovelymoonn]

osip mandelstam from a swamp, evil, viscous (tr. a.s. kline) (via @metamorphesque) \\ @stuckinapril \\ julie myerson sleepwalking \\ @kosmogrl \\ rainer maria rilke duino elegies: the first elegy (a. poullin, jr.) (via @bones-ivy-breath) \\ @postnuclearophelia \\ joshua turek (via @girlfictions)

kofi

[apoemaday]

Because I Liked You Better

by A.E. Housman

Because I liked you better Than suits a man to say, It irked you, and I promised To throw the thought away.

To put the world between us We parted stiff and dry; “Good-bye,” said you, “forget me.” “I will, no fear,” said I.

If here, where clover whitens The dead man’s knoll, you pass, And no tall flower to meet you Starts in the trefoiled grass,

Halt by the headstone naming The heart no longer stirred, And say the lad that loved you Was one that kept his word.

[animations-daily]

Hey, for your information, I happen to be humanity's last great hope. I weep for the species. TITAN A.E. (2000) dir. Don Bluth, Gary Goldman

[nerdypeacebabu]

We went out last night and my boyfriend had quite a bit to drink and then kept me up all night telling me over and over again how much he loves me and that he's obsessed with me and so in love with me

I feel so lucky :) he makes me so happy

[venriliz]

Leif.

crooked teeth appreciation! <3

[soracities]

"Persephone Writes a Letter to Her Mother", by A.E. Stallings

First – hell is not so far underground – My hair gets tangled in the roots of trees & I can just make out the crunch of footsteps, The pop of acorns falling, or the chime Of a shovel squaring a fresh grave or turning Up the tulip bulbs for separation. Day & night, creatures with no legs Or too many, journey to hell and back. Alas, the burrowing animals have dim eyesight. They are useless for news of the upper world. They say the light is “loud” (their figures of speech All come from sound; their hearing is acute).

The dead are just as dull as you would imagine. They evolve like the burrowing animals – losing their sight. They may roam abroad sometimes – but just at night – They can only tell me if there was a moon. Again and again, moth-like, they are duped By any beckoning flame – lamps and candles. They come back startled & singed, sucking their fingers, Happy the dirt is cool and dense and blind. They are silly & grateful and don’t remember anything. I have tried to tell them stories, but they cannot attend. They pester you like children for the wrong details – How long were his fingernails? Did she wear shoes? How much did they eat for breakfast? What is snow? And then they pay no attention to the answers.

My husband, bored with their babbling, neither listens nor speaks. But here there is no fodder for small talk. The weather is always the same. Nothing happens. (Though at times I feel the trees, rocking in place Like grief, clenching the dirt with torturous toes.) There is nothing to eat here but raw beets & turnips. There is nothing to drink but mud-filtered rain. Of course, no one goes hungry or toils, however many – (The dead breed like the bulbs of daffodils – Without sex or seed – all underground – Yet no race has such increase. Worse than insects!)

I miss you and think about you often. Please send flowers. I am forgetting them. If I yank them down by the roots, they lose their petals And smell of compost. Though I try to describe Their color and fragrance, no one here believes me. They think they are the same thing as mushrooms. Yet no dog is so loyal as the dead, Who have no wives or children and no lives, No motives, secret or bare, to disobey. Plus, my husband is a kind, kind master; He asks nothing of us, nothing at all – Thus fall changes to winter, winter to fall, While we learn idleness, a difficult lesson.

He does not fully understand why I write letters. He says that you will never get them. True – Mulched-leaf paper sticks together, then rots; No ink but blood, and it turns brown like the leaves. He found my stash of letters, for I had hid it, Thinking he’d be angry. But he never angers. He took my hands in his hands, my shredded fingers Which I have sliced for ink, thin paper cuts. My effort is futile, he says, and doesn’t forbid it.