to be honest though if there's one short story i want everyone to read (if they see this) it's intizar husain's city of sorrow

gabriel garcia marquez 🤝 jorge luis borges 🤝 clarice lispector: writers who make me want to pick up a pen and learn how words work again

Another thing is that when this aggression started, we were so worried about winter and how displaced people in tents will survive it. Earlier this week the temperature in Gaza hit 38 degrees (100 Fahrenheit) and we are now wondering how will displaced people survive the heat in those tents.

Jenna Coleman as Clara Oswald — Doctor Who | Season Eight

this summer i'm going to finally get a guitar i think

i love romance movies i love when they dont end up together and never kiss and barely even touch

its tuesday and ive decided to believe we have no organs or bones or anything inside us but rather are completely hollow and exist only on the line that might be called a silhouette. every time this emptiness is challenged, every time we’re cut open or sung to or held or in any way touched, the expectation of embodiment that follows temporarily and instantaneously induces itself into truth, and into what we accept as a default state of being, when really it is just a constant and continuous repeated induction of embodiment that keeps us embodied. for example, if you put your hand on mine it will stop at my skin, it will find itself capable of resting there instead of falling through, if i choose i can lift your hand with my own and carry it through space. but this is not grounds for assumption that the parts of our hands that are now in contact were made of hand material before they were in contact.  reality (and this goes not just physically but on every level) is naturally pure concavity (hollowness hunger desire god there are a hundred words for it). when something concave touches something concave we have: )( and )( becoming )()( . this new shape is no longer two concave things adjacent to each other, but 2 convex things. one whole and connected ) () ( and one disconnected and split up around it ) () ( . when )()( is created, the union of two entities )( and )( discovers a transcendental third entity whose concavity has been inverted into convexness (everything in the universe is a binary either in the state of concavity or convexity btw). SO we have () which is convex. and thus convexity — flesh, meat, satiation, tangibility, edibility, love, violence, consumption, etc — is only a state or quality of being, which arises from the union of two concave/intagible/hollow entities. we think of ourselves as embodied, but this embodiment is only discursively produced from kiss and punch and utteration and twitch and memory of riding a bicycle and prayer for future embrace and everything else. in a vacuum we are vacuum. where there are two vacuum nozzles or two hungers or two lonelinesses, the oppositional sucking turns the sucked interstice inside-out into our lived reality. anyway i think it would be interesting and maybe fun also to think this sometimes

Source.

i had a flashback of something that never existed by louise bourgeois, porcelain plate, 2002

moodboard

sometimes i think about the fact that if we didn’t have a weird girl with an overfevered imagination and attachment issues (charlotte bronte) we wouldn’t have four generations of female fiction classics

“All memory is individual, unreproducible—it dies with each person. What is called collective memory is not a remembering but a stipulating: that this is important, and this is the story about how it happened […].”

— Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others (via exhaled-spirals)

pompous self-important pretentious and annoying girls interact

and I can’t help thinking, when you touched it, were you sorry? were you sorry like you weren’t at the time?

The first rule of tragedy is to be yourself. The second of rule of tragedy is to be literally anyone else. The third rule is that however much you try, there is no escaping being yourself forever.

it's the last week of classes oh NO