you ever read poetry and it’s like. i need to run little circles around my room I need to lay down I need to cry I need to scream I need to laugh hysterically I need to tell everyone I know that I love them I need to catapult myself to space and become a meteor
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scary things - a poem
I don’t need to play-pretend
or make believe for one day
to sought for a fright.
Halloween.
There are enough scary things;
monsters under my bed,
and voices in my head
that keep me up at night.
✰ - k.
I'm aware that Halloween was a few days ago, however, I completely forgot about this idea that I started just before it.
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There is nothing quite ladylike, as having the luxury of choice. There is always a choice to make. An obligation labelled as luxury to keep the ones with opinions in check. What better way to misguide a mind than to make it believe that it was never denied of anything but simply given options. What else is one going to do other than choosing the least objectionable one.
-inmybook
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«I am in the act of asking myself if I ought to reply to your question? A question furthermore most indiscreet and which merits a sharp reprimand. Reply, don’t reply, reply! Oh to the devil with discretion!
Well, you ask me pointblank why I love you… I love you, Vita, because I’ve fought so hard to win you… I love you, Vita, because you never gave me back my ring. I love you because you have never yielded in anything; I love you because you never capitulate. I love you for your wonderful intelligence, for your literary aspirations, for your unconscious (?) coquetry. I love you because you have the air of doubting nothing!
I love in you what is also in me: imagination, the gift for languages, taste, intuition and a host of other things…
I love you, Vita, because I have seen your soul…»
Violet Trefusis to Vita Sackville-West
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{Words by Anaïs Nin, from The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4 (1944-1947) / Cynthia Cruz from diagnosis,The glimmering room}
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One day you think: I want to die. And then you think, very quietly, actually I want a coffee. I want a nap. A sandwich. A book. And I want to die turns day by day into I want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friends, I want to sit in the sun. I want a cleaner room, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else, I want to live.
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