"I'm only asking for strength for my days. Teach me the art of small steps."
1 @soracities || 2, 3 shanna van maurik || 4 winter of artifice by anaïs nin || 5 hermann hesse, in an excerpt from hermann hesse on little joys, breaking the trance of busyness, and the most important habit for living with presence, the marginalian || 6 café terrace at night (place du forum, arles), Vincent van Gogh || 7 oamul lu || 8 leaves, lloyd Schwartz || 8 tony kushner, angels in america || 10 dead poets society || 11 a prayer, antoine de saint-exupéry
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a boon, pray. grant me a boon, goddess of gods. when the flowers bloom and the air grows heavy with warmth, won't you give me something sweet? tender and wild, and full of teeth, let my mother work her hands to blood.
am i not made from the lines in her palms, and all the soft edges your husband has long since whetted away? are those not his teeth, buried in my mother's shoulder, yet?
in the hungry soil, I plant a pomegranate tree. each year, it carries six fruits. each year, I return to find it sick with rot.
my lady. my skies. my wrath. under my toes blooms mint. even in my mother's garden, it sits just underneath my skin, as though it has long since found root in my flesh. this, too, is an offering.
I wonder, in the summers, when the air is honey and the garden wails, about the cardinal points of your rib cage. or, perhaps, of this world. storms like jewels, and days so clear that stars might touch it.
at night, I watch what will be Venus. Aphrodite. sharp, she sits stitched into the very fabric above mortal eyes. stark, she looks at me, every autumn.
your husband misses you.
a secret, goddess. keep a secret, for me. in mortal terms, the story has five beats: a god finds in a place full of sunlight a goddess with pearls for teeth. he asks of her nothing and takes of her all that he can touch. willingly, say some. trickery, say others. she loses name and boon and realm in his hands. home will never be the same again.
that is not the secret, dearheart. that is not the boon.
the secret has long since dripped into the cobblestones that line my path. the secret lies, folded in divine terms. matrimony takes me, yearly, by the hand, and guides me, slowly. gently, it takes from me my crown. with soft hands, it braids my hair and washes the pigment from my fabrics.
on the border between winter and spring, something golden lays heavy on my mouth. halfway between summer and autumn, I spin from the tips of my fingers a petal-storm and drink ambrosia from vengeful lips.
a boon, goddess. grant me a kiss, for these long, warm months. I will bring to olympus a pomegranate and watch you, golden, pry it apart.
- Hera, take me home. soften yourself, and let me kiss wrath from bloody palms.
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☀️✨☕️🍊🌞🌻🍌🍍🥭🍋🥐🍯🧃🍪🍫🥃🎨🎼🎻🪕🏛️🌄🌅🕯️🩺🩹💉💊💛✴️🔆🔅🟡🟠
Please Accept this e offering
Please help me feel better, be in less pain, have my fever go down
Please keep my friends and loved ones and their loved ones in good health
Please continue to support and inspire when it comes to my creative endeavors (maybe we could draw together sometime and chill)
Have a good night and be well✨💛 love you (platonically)
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I promise I will try to remember you all
As the world forgets the true nature of the devouring I promise I will not turn away
Thank you for surviving so that I could try to thrive
Opre Roma
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— a prayer, tathève simonyan
[text ID: a prayer / i look up at God and see my ceiling staring back at me. / whimpered prayers leaving through the gates of my lips, ricocheting and landing right onto my eyes. / now everything i see is tainted with the colors of my pending longings. / a desire so raw you could still see the specks of blood gathering at seams. / a prayer … / a man on his knees in front of a woman, hands on her hips, holding the cathedral that was neither built nor can be destroyed / lips kissing the source of life / lips kissing the source of light / lips kissing / a prayer! – a body to crawl into! (to grow into?) / a prayer! – a dead language we refuse to let go of, / a language of the dead that we refuse to let go of / a prayer! – Grandpa’s favorite tie, hanging from the bedroom door, decades after he passed / because my Grandma was the only one of us who knew what a prayer was / a prayer! – Grandma: “sitting with someone until they finish their meal is the purest sign of love” / a prayer! – i’ll sit with you till the very last sip, till the very last grain / a prayer! – a hymn to the Sun written by the coldest of hands / a prayer! – a mouth full of tongues that can never find the right language to weep in / Rage, that is love – rotten! / Rage, that is desire – rotten! / Rage! – like a prayer, unanswered, ricocheting from your ceiling and landing right onto your eyes, never quite reaching where it was meant to.]
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So some exciting news; my therapist talked about possibly getting me put on a medication to help with my nightmares and night terrors i didnt know such pills existed!✨ so i have been tracking every time i have a nightmare or wake up screaming. I really hope i can get on them; between you and those pills i think ill be able to sleep quite nicely✨💤
Please help me fall asleep soon, help me stay asleep. Watch over me like i know you do.
Im thankful for that it makes me feel safe
Hopefully soon you won’t have to watch over me so hard
Night night~
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just had to hurriedly drive my dad out to the hospital for chest pain and am currently sitting the emergency room waiting room waiting for a nurse or SOMEONE to come get me.
feeling fucking fantastic, totally not borderline pooping my pants or anything at all 🤍
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What really gets to me from 6x01 is that we see that Buck is also able to cook now.
Both Eddie and Buck have become this form of competent domestic partners and they are able to show such a simple act of service to each other and Chris.
They have these moments to really provide a way to say: I love you, I love our family, I love what we have built. And I’m willing to show it any way I can no matter how big or small.
This is a precious type of love. One that is built and constructed with such undeniable care. And it’s awe-inspiring to see how they are willing to work and improve themselves and each other, to say: yes, this is my family, this is the life I choose to cherish, to nourish, and to keep as closely tied to my heart as I possibly can.
And there is something so beautiful about being able to witness that.
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dusty
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im going to help you
i have to help you
i cant let anyone else get hurt
i cant let you get hurt
ill find you
and when i do
i will save you
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