“A relationship is about inventing your own language. You’ve got the jokes, you’ve got the songs, you have this anecdote that’s going to make you laugh three years later. It’s this language that you build. That’s what you mourn for when you’re losing someone you love. This language you’re not going to speak with anybody else.”
— Céline Sciamma
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[via]
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Viktor Zaretsky (Ukrainian 1925-90), Glowing Sky, 1988, Oil on canvas
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Kasper Pochwalski, 1899-1971
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buried trauma adjacent
I hear
"jest",
I think this hasn't happened in so long -
all you had to do
to lose all my trust
was force me back
to that flickering light,
what slams the brakes,
what always makes it back
a bit louder,
what always repeats.
I am molten,
I am gone -
I hear
and my jaw hurts.
this hasn't happened in so long.
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“I can barely conceive of a type of beauty in which there is no Melancholy.”
— Charles Baudelaire, The Flowers of Evil
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Francesc Català-Roca
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Book club paintings vol. 6 ♡ Girl Reading by Charles Edward Perugini / 2nd image is a detail from unknown painting
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Book club paintings vol. 7 ♡ Reading (19th centry) by Alberto Pisa / La liseuse (1877) by Robert James Gordon
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“My life is made up of ‘I’m sorry’. I feel like I have to apologize to people, to things, to life itself. It’s like, ‘I’m sorry to be here’. I don’t want to disturb anyone.”
— Yohji Yamamoto
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There Is a Cure
Soaking up sunlight
as it penetrates
my pale skin,
creating warmth,
thawing the once
frozen.
I harbor it all
in a sweet deep breath,
making a home in
the depths of my lungs,
letting it live
inside me.
I only step
where the grass is green
and the dandelions reside,
I wish to rip this longing
out of my heavy chest
and watch it disappear
with the passing
of time.
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Edvard Munch
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