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spikedcoffee · 7 days
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Let’s turn on and be not alone…
(David Bowie. Rock ‘N’ Roll Suicide)
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spikedcoffee · 14 days
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“Touch has a memory”
-John Keats
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spikedcoffee · 14 days
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The Girl with Many Eyes
One day in the park I had quite a surprise I met a girl who had many eyes.
She was really quite pretty (and also quite shocking!) and I noticed she had a mouth, so we ended up talking.
We talked about flowers, her poetry classes and the problems she’d have if she ever wore glasses.
It’s great to know a girl who has so many eyes, but you really get wet when she breaks down and cries.
Tim Burton. The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy & Other Stories
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spikedcoffee · 14 days
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spikedcoffee · 16 days
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spikedcoffee · 17 days
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“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”
Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.
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spikedcoffee · 18 days
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Couples that blaze together stay together 🔥
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spikedcoffee · 19 days
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"And then I feel that soon we will part ways. My amazed truth is that I have always been alone from you and didn't know it. Now I know: I am alone. Me and my freedom that I don't know how to use. The great responsibility of loneliness. Whoever is not lost does not know freedom and does not love it. As for me, I embrace my loneliness. Sometimes it enraptures itself as if preceding fireworks. I am alone and I have to live a certain intimate glory that in loneliness can turn into pain. And pain, in silence. I keep its name secret. I need secrets to live."
— Clarice Lispector | "Agua Viva"
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spikedcoffee · 20 days
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spikedcoffee · 20 days
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“Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.” ~Charlotte Brontë
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spikedcoffee · 20 days
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spikedcoffee · 20 days
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I have already hidden a love for fear of losing it. I have already lost a love for hiding it. I have already clung to someone's hands out of fear. I have already felt so much fear, to the point of not feeling my hands. I have already expelled people I loved from my life; I have regretted it. I have already spent nights crying until falling asleep. I already went to bed so happy, to the point of not being able to close my eyes. I already believed in perfect loves; I already discovered they do not exist. I have already loved people who disappointed me, I have already disappointed people who loved me.
I already spent hours in front of the mirror trying to discover who I am. I have already been so certain of myself, to the point of wanting to disappear. I already lied and regretted it afterward. I already told the truth and also regretted it. I already pretended not to care about the people I loved, only to later cry silently in a corner. I already smiled while crying tears of sadness, I already cried from laughing so hard. I already believed in people who were not worth it, I already stopped believing in those who truly were. I already had laughing fits when I shouldn't. I have already broken plates, glasses, and vases out of anger. I already missed someone a lot, but never told them.
I already screamed when I should have been silent, I have already been silent when I should have screamed. Many times I have refrained from saying what I think to please some, other times I have said what I did not think to annoy others. I already pretended to be what I am not to please some, I already pretended to be what I am not to displease others. I already told jokes and more jokes without humor, just to see a friend happy. I already invented stories with happy endings to give hope to those who needed it. I already dreamed too much, to the point of confusing reality. I have already been afraid of the dark, today in the dark I find myself; I crouch down, I stay there.
I have already fallen many times thinking I would not get up, I have already gotten up many times thinking I would not fall again. I already called someone I did not want to just to avoid calling someone I really wanted to. I already ran after a car, for taking away someone I loved. I have already called my mother in the middle of the night, fleeing from a nightmare. But she did not appear, and it was an even worse nightmare. I have already called close people 'friends' and discovered they were not... Some people I never needed to call in any way and they have always been and will be special to me...
Do not give me certain formulas, because I do not expect to be right always. Do not show me what you expect from me because I will follow my heart! Do not make me be what I am not, do not invite me to be the same, because honestly, I am different! I do not know how to love halfway, I do not know how to live a lie, I do not know how to fly with my feet on the ground. I am always myself, but surely I will not be the same forever!
I like the slowest poisons, the bitterest drinks, the strongest drugs, the craziest ideas, the most complex thoughts, the strongest feelings. I have a voracious appetite and the craziest delusions. You can even push me off a cliff and I will say: 'What does it matter? I love flying!'"
Clarice Lispector
(Ukrainian-born Brazilian novelist and short story writer. 1920-1977)
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spikedcoffee · 20 days
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spikedcoffee · 20 days
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“Had I not created my whole world, I would certainly have died in other people’s.”
- Anaïs Nin
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spikedcoffee · 20 days
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THE END OF POETRY -by Ada Limón
Enough of osseous and chickadee and sunflower
and snowshoes, maple and seeds, samara and shoot,
enough chiaroscuro, enough of thus and prophecy
and the stoic farmer and faith and our father and tis
of thee, enough of bosom and bud, skin and god
not forgetting and star bodies and frozen birds,
enough of the will to go on and not go on or how
a certain light does a certain thing, enough
of the kneeling and the rising and the looking
inward and the looking up, enough of the gun,
the drama, and the acquaintance’s suicide, the long-lost
letter on the dresser, enough of the longing and
the ego and the obliteration of ego, enough
of the mother and the child and the father and the child
and enough of the pointing to the world, weary
and desperate, enough of the brutal and the border,
enough of can you see me, can you hear me, enough
I am human, enough I am alone and I am desperate,
enough of the animal saving me, enough of the high
water, enough sorrow, enough of the air and its ease,
I am asking you to touch me.
(Ada Limón, March 28, 1976. First Latina to be Poet Laureate of the United States)
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spikedcoffee · 1 month
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