No one survives reading The Song Of Achilles, even if it's their 99th read.
Yeah that happens too. 🤷🏻♀️🤷🏻♀️
Owls, oh owls, I'm grown up enough. Take me with you
here, i want to argue a point. just follow on with this if you’re interested.
1. first read this fragment of a poem.
transcript: Name a mirror where your face didn’t appear. Name a mirror where only you have appeared. Name a crime. List yourself as evidence. List her as living. Kiss her with your eyes open, let her bite your ear & lean closer & say: I live as evidence of what may kill me.
2. what are your thoughts on it? how does it make you feel? what do you think it’s about? do you relate to the emotions of it?
3. think on those questions a second.
3. yes i sound like an english lit teacher but bear with me please.
4. then read the full poem (below the cut)
Keep reading
wikipedia // the anatomy of a hug by luna lu // wikipedia // gustav klimt // tumblr user @/jugn00 // egon schiele // tumblr user @/jugn00 // hessam // tumblr user @/jugn00
I cry every time I read it, I read this one a lot.
@queerlitnet event 01: get to know the members — lily + MAKE ME CHOOSE — @hcrror asked oliver marks or james farrow
“were you in love with him?” “yes,” i say, simply. james and i put each other through the kind of reckless passions gwendolyn once talked about, joy and anger and desire and despair. after all that, was it really so strange? i am no longer baffled or amazed or embarrassed by it. “yes, i was.” it’s not the whole truth. the whole truth is, i’m in love with him still.
i have a weird appreciation for Baroque artists, in particular Francois Boucher and Peter Paul Rubens, for depicting the human body in lush detail at a time that predates the standards for bodies to be thin and airbrushed with no wrinkles or cellulite
it’s just really interesting to me
so many the things women are taught to hate about their bodies—pudgy bellies, fat rolls, double chins, and cellulite—used to be ideals of beauty shown in depictions of goddesses
This is gonna hit everyone hard
Drink water, lots of water.
I still haven't wrapped my head around it, but I'll get there * hopeful *
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