wreete

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Topaz Winters, from "Cherry Blossoms"

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I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary.

Margaret Atwood

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“Better to be at the bottom of a ladder you want to climb than in the middle of some ladder you don’t, right?”

— Dave Eggers, The Circle

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tenderness is in the hands ― Carolyn Forché, L’Avventura (1960), Ocean Vuong, The White Ribbon (2009), Hart Crane, Gelatin Silver, Love (2009), Ingeborg Bachmann, Les amants du Pont-Neuf (1991), Sylvia Plath, Psycho (1960), Rod McKuen (stills by @forhandsthatsuffer)

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― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

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Margaret Atwood, from “The Blind Assassin”

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“Obsession is an accidental haunting, by a person not aware she’s a ghost.”

— Susan Choi, Trust Exercise

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“Leaving behind the babble of the plaza, I enter the Library. I feel, almost physically, the gravitation of the books, the enveloping serenity of order, time magically desiccated and preserved.”

— Jorge Luis Borges, Dreamtigers

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Just because we aren't seeing more posts about Palestine, doesn't mean the genocide has stopped. Let's keep Praying and speaking up for Gaza, Palestine.

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“Anyone whose goal is ‘something higher’ must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.”

— Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

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Last night I wept. I wept because the process by which I have become woman was painful. I wept because I was no longer a child with a child's blind faith. I wept because my eyes were opened to reality... I wept because I could not believe anymore and I love to believe. I can still love passionately without believing. That means I love humanly. I wept because I have lost my pain and I am not yet accustomed to its absence.

Anaïs Nin, from Henry and June: From "A Journal of Love": The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1931-32

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Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

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I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

and sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

from Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath

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I love the rain.

Why?

I like the way it settles, like heavy silence.

[wreete]

aure vives, ‘wildflower crush’