Crying
when georges bataille wrote, “no greater desire exists than a wounded person’s need for another wound” & when gillian flynn wrote, “a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort” & when ocean vuong wrote, “sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you’ve been ruined” & when lisa m. basile wrote, “did you inherit a sickness? did you blame god? do you believe in god? do you believe in yourself? are you still on fire? did you ever put out the fire?” & when stephen a. guirgis wrote, “why didn't you make me good enough so that you could’ve loved me?”
Salted toffee latte (with oatmilk) and new book.
Frida Kahlo, from a letter wr. c. January 1925, featured in The Letters of Frida Kahlo: Cartas Apasionadas
virginia woolf's 1931 new years resolutions : "to have none. not to be tied. to be free & kindly with myself. sometimes to read, sometimes not to read. to go out, yes—but stay at home in spite of being asked. as for clothes, i think to buy good ones."
Well well well. How the wheels on the bus have gone round and round
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us, even in the leafless winter, even in the ashy city. I am thinking now of grief, and of getting past it;
I feel my boots trying to leave the ground, I feel my heart pumping hard. I want
to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.
Mary Oliver, "Starlings in Winter"
Life on Earth (Abderrahmane Sissako, 1998)
eternally plagued by being the "intellectual" friend (has surface knowledge on everything) while being the most socially sensitive (can be friends with just anyone) BUT personally cold and aloof friend (needs a lot of distance and alone time)
btw if you tell me something and i reply with “oh???” that’s the equivalent of a dog’s ears perking up
sun
tea, coffee