I don’t really feel like posting (reblogging) much so you can see a lot more in my “likes” section on app
I guess just imagine those are my posts 🫶🏼
I don’t really feel like posting (reblogging) much so you can see a lot more in my “likes” section on app
I guess just imagine those are my posts 🫶🏼
Aimee Nezhukumatathil, from Baked Goods
So many times I have died alone in my room
Zeravshan gorge, Tajikistan. November 2002. By Dmitry Beliakov.
Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it
Hand burnt text on silk velvet
42″ x 24″
2016
— Hanif Kureishi, from “The Buddha of Suburbia.”
— Conversations about Home (At the Deportation Centre), Warsan Shire
[text ID: My body is burning with the shame of not belonging, my body is longing.]
Pearl — 2022, dir. Ti West
“I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put in words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.”— Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart
“The absence of the will to live is, alas, not sufficient to make one want to die.”— Michel Houellebecq, Platform