Tumgik
danteslovechild · 8 months
Text
the worst thing in the world is doing things. the second worst thing in the world is not doing things. how has no one ever come up with a solution for this
54K notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 2 years
Text
these hands were made for destruction the way other people's hearts were made to love
7 notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 2 years
Text
From a young age our minds are filled with
false expectations that our lives must be
riveting, we must be grand to matter.
We learn how quickly people fade 
from every memory, thus starting a
desperate attempt to be eternal.
It is near effortlessly to inadvertently 
forget to love the softer aspects of life
in light of trying to create something endless.
Sometimes we all forget to live,
we let experiences pass by attempting
to manifest future happiness.
There is endless love in this world,
sometimes hiding in ways we may
never know, so easily missed out on.
We put so much pressure on ourselves
not to be forgotten and accidentally
forget what it is all for. 
-[i.r.]
[04.22.22.]
103 notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Quotes: 1.) Louise Glück, From Averno; “Blue Rotunda” 2.) Ocean Vuong, from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous 3.) Clarice Lispector, from Selected Crônicas; “Excess and Privation ,” 4.) Rachel Cusk, on the reception of Aftermath, as cited in Olivia Sudjic’s Exposure
Art: 1.) Daniel F. Gerhartz 2.) Adrian Ghenie, Henrik Uldalen 3.) Helene Delmaire, Glenn Brown 4.) Alexandra Levasseur
9K notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
i think reading together is one of the loveliest things two people can do. reading out loud to each other, or reading two different books while lounging on the floor seems so dreamy.
37K notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
if they were the ocean, i would be the symphony of the seas.
if they were the wind, i would be a kite, soaring so high
if they were the sun’s rays, i would be a helianthus
if they were the summer sky, i would be the cosmic chrysanthemum
if they were the scottish grasslands, i would be the quaking grass
if they were the northern alps, i would be the alpine lakes
if they were da vinci, i would be the lady with an ermine
if they were wordsworth, i would be the daffodils.
for we are one, them and i,
together we suffer, together exist and forever will recreate one another.
12 notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
last night i asked you why i am the wretched way i am and you said it’s because i carry everyone else’s pain along with my own. you said you used to be the same way but somehow you stopped— overflowing with pain of your own. pain. it’s like concrete— wet and sticky like overripe fruit before it suddenly coalesces into immovable, gray heaviness, blocking you off from the world, shielding you from the sun. but you should know by now that the concrete has made a lighthouse out of you. i want to enter the sanctuary of your body like the door has been open, waiting for me all your life. i will let the salt of the sea erode the concrete to dust, our petty pains to nothing. i will hold the windowsill of your fingertips and prefer you to the rest of the world. i will set the brimming pitchers of our pain down and let the years whittle it to air. and it will be enough to keep me warm for as long as you’ll let me stay.
—the pain has made you into a lighthouse and i want to live in you for all my years a.p. (6.21)
70 notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
Mary Oliver: "The question is, what will it be like after the last day? Will I float into the sky or will I fray within the earth or a river—remembering nothing? How desperate I would be if I couldn’t remember the sun rising, if I couldn’t remember trees, rivers; if I couldn’t even remember, beloved,your beloved name."
Me: Immediately starts crying
43 notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
clarice lispector / @billypotts / yehuda amichai / hélène cixous / louise bourgeois / natalie wee / callie porcher / natalie diaz / jenny slate
10K notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
soulmate au
-where you keep missing the other person by the bat of an eye; catching a fleeting glance through the windows of different trains, an accidental brush of the hands in a public place that felt entrancing but you didn’t get the chance to see, having never held an actual conversation with them but you can taste their name on your lips?
7 notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
on soulmates
f. scott fitzgerald / friedrich nietzsche / florence and the machine / andrea dworkin / kiersten white / euripides / audre lorde / phillip pullmann / bob hicok
80K notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
i’m sharing all my insecurities with you, what more hints do you want?
15 notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
they’re not young kids fooling around,
they have what sonnets are written about
31 notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
Do you ever wonder how much you exist in other people’s lives? I’m always curious if people think of me when a certain song comes on, or when they pass through a certain town. I wonder how many stories I’ve been a part of that I may have forgotten. I wonder if I still I exist in the minds of people that I don’t speak to anymore. I wonder how many times a day I pass through someone’s head.
656K notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The real desi academia.
Your mother braiding your hair before you sleep, getting up early to study, Ruskin bond and other authors lined up on your desk, laughing and crying with your friends about boards, making memories on the way to your tuitions, the sweat on your shirt on the van ride back from school, book store hidden in small valleys, chess, carrom, chai breaks, being fed badaam before every exam, this is desi academia.
758 notes · View notes
danteslovechild · 3 years
Text
i don’t want a love that tames me,
i want a love that sets me free.
57 notes · View notes