@oldschoolromantics-archive :source
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Alejandro Zambra, Ways of Going Home (translated by Megan McDowell)
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I don't want you to leave
I want you to stick around
While we lie on the sand
Listening to the waves
A tug on your sleeve to inch you closer
So I can hear
Your heart beat faster as I place my ear to your chest
Maybe we don't talk so much about who we love the most because we're experiencing it
It's messy and lovely and I never want it to end.
Nothing like before
And nothing like it will be tomorrow
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And I'm laughing because it happened to her she's not familiar with the bus routes yet. They told her that it's the last stop so she gets off and is another town over 20 minutes away.
A good memory if any.
This is the last stop
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Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
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It's okay if it takes a little longer than you thought.
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It breaks to transform- to evolve - to grow to morph to alter its shape into something stronger.
Maybe it's like a virus or a parasite ever changing and finding new ways to survive because that's what it's made to do. To be penetrated to be conquered. So it can come back 10x stronger. Pounding. Deafening.
It is the strongest muscle, after all
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whatever was left, that was ours for a while.
sunrise - louise glück
LizzieOrmian.redbubble.com
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{Words by José Olivarez from Citizen Illegal /@fatimaamerbilal , from even flesh eaters don't want me.}
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{Quotes:Nitya prakash/Richard siken ,crush}
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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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Robert Frost / Virginia Woolf / Salman Rushdie
On poetry
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Conor Harrington (Irish, 1980), Tardis of Delight, 2012. Oil, spray paint and gold leaf on canvas, 152.5 x 122 cm.
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