#author unknown

[divine-feminines-blog]

World off, music on..

[maisonmimosa]

[fragrantblossoms]

A Deer, ca 1865 (unknown maker, France)

[cliozaur]

Today I saw Gavroche. For some reason he was called 'a peasant boy' but nevermind.

[inlovewithquotes]

I love the sound of heavy rain and thunder on a dark night, I find it so peaceful.

-Unknown

[evolving-swan]

Blurred lines

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

“A perfect god would make its word perfectly clear to everyone so no interpretation was ever necessary.

The bible does no such thing.”

-- Miller

Saying “interpretation” is the same as saying “nobody can be sure what it means.” This is particularly evident when reinterpretation is used to change divinely inspired religious doctrine after humans have already changed.

[wehavewords]

“You can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly.”

Unknown

[dopescissorscashwagon]

My parents were married for 55 years. One morning, my mom was going downstairs to make dad breakfast, she had a heart attack and fell. My father picked her up as best he could and almost dragged her into the truck. At full speed, without respecting traffic lights, he drove her to the hospital.

When he arrived, unfortunately she was no longer with us.

During the funeral, my father did not speak; his gaze was lost. He hardly cried.

That night, his children joined him. In an atmosphere of pain and nostalgia, we remembered beautiful anecdotes and he asked my brother, a theologian, to tell him where Mom would be at that moment. My brother began to talk about life after death and guesses as to how and where she would be.

My father listened carefully. Suddenly he asked us to take him to the cemetery."Dad!" we replied, "it's 11 at night, we can't go to the cemetery right now!"

He raised his voice, and with a glazed look he said: "Don't argue with me, please don't argue with the man who just lost his wife of 55 years."

There was a moment of respectful silence, we didn't argue anymore. We went to the cemetery. With a flashlight we reached her grave.

My father sat down, prayed, and told his children: "It was 55 years... you know? No one can really talk about true love if haven't done life with a person."

He paused and wiped his face.

"She and I, we were together in the good and in the bad." he continued. "

When I changed jobs, we packed up when we sold the house and moved. We shared the joy of seeing our children become parents, together we mourned the departure of loved ones, we prayed together in the waiting room of some hospitals, we supported each other in pain, we hugged one another each day, and we forgave mistakes."

And then he paused and added, "Children, that's all gone and I'm happy tonight. Do you know why I'm happy? Because she left before me. She didn't have to go through the agony and pain of burying me, of being left alone after my departure. I will be the one to go through that, and I thank God for that. I love her so much that I wouldn't have liked her to suffer..."

When my father finished speaking, my brothers and I had tears streaming down our faces. We hugged him and he comforted us, "It's okay. We can go home. It's been a good day."

That night I understood what true love is. It is more than just romanticism and sex, it's two people who stand beside one another, who are committed to one another ... through all the good and bad that life throws at you.

Peace in your hearts.

🖊 Author Unknown

[vostinare]

‘ghost in the shell’, 2023

[purpledragon-ephemera]

The Outlandish Knight Author and Artist Unknown Publication Unknown

[twicedailyquotes]

Immediately I recall Caravaggio’s painting of Medusa, feared by the male heroes of Greek mythology. I am thirteen and I stand in an art gallery, marble floors shining and my breath echoing around the room. Medusa has her mouth open in a bloody, hysterical scream, her head decapitated; it is silenced by the glass separating the painting from me. It reflects my face over her own -- a mirror. I am sixteen now, and I want to scream. Rage. Cry. We are told not to. My head, firmly attached to my neck writhes with snakes of questions about this. I have no snakes for hair, yet my own contentious relationship with the concepts of beauty and ugliness seems to explain my having some sharp edges. When girls are weighed on the scale of beauty, of worth -- am I not allowed to simply exist? -- the scale places rage on the negative end. Medusa is given trauma, has it forced down her throat and into her lungs; Medusa is given a blade to her neck for daring to be mad about it. Girls are given trauma, and they are given no place to put it down.

Author Unknown Girlhood, Medusa, and Female Rage

[quietlotus]

“We see things not as they are, but as we are.”

— Author Unknown

[the-empress-7]

"Never try to destroy someone else’s life with a lie when yours can be destroyed with the truth."

[inlovewithquotes]

“Why do you like thunderstorms?”

“Because it shows that even nature needs to scream sometimes.”

[unknownpoet3]

Please don’t touch me

From the moment you closed the door

I wanted absolutely nothing more

Then for what happened to stop.

Just drop

It

But “You can’t change your mind now”.

Semi-naked ungrown bodies on a bed

A few minutes to forever fuck up my head.

I was forever insane

All because of that pain

I felt when you touched me.

Did you ever think of me?

Have you ever come to see

What you’ve actually done?

Forever gone

Was an innocent little girl

I’m her innocent little world.

Please don’t touch me

Can’t you see

I’m shaking?