.. First Poem: @shessensitivee

naps aren't enough, i need to sleep for eternity

Sweet baby 🤍

i’ve been bed rotting in a decidedly self destructive way lately

being and nothingness, jean-paul sartre // the metamorphosis, franz kafka // i am the architect of my own destruction, juansen dizon // albert camus // as consciousness is harnessed, susan sontag // ralph waldo emerson // allen ginsberg // tennesse williams // letters to felice, franz kafka // sylvia plath

“Reading can be hard, or at least it can present the sort of challenge that modern life is supposed to ease or optimize away. Reading is harder than streaming Netflix, watching a movie, listening to music, or playing video games. Hardness, on its own, is not a virtue. It does, however, matter. It matters to be a disciplined adult. It matters to sit still, to think, to escape the flotsam and be alone with yourself, with another world. It matters to grapple with language, theme, plot, and characterization. It matters that the conclusions aren’t simple, that literature—good literature—is murk. It’s the dark of the wilderness, a lighted match showing that, in fact, there is only more, a vastness you can only begin to comprehend. Reading teaches you that life is not an algorithm and that the certainty of your opinions, neatly sorted into a 2020s rubric, is very much unwarranted, with eternities stretching before and after you. Reading is meeting another consciousness that is not cable television and never will be, that exists at a complexity many lightyears beyond self-righteous pundit panels, the red versus blue, your new spin on the midterms. Reading is knowing those you would never know otherwise. It is, perhaps, the most human thing you can do.”

— You Should Read Books

Jenny Slate, Little Weirds

It's always: "wanna hang out" but never "hey let's create a secret society and read literature and poetry"

oh this sad warmth of grief; a warm tear on cold cheeks.

what is grief

if not love and longing

embracing?

when grief starts overflowing again, remember, there is still love left. you're still filled with love. no one deserves your love more than you do.

—𝓜𝓼. 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮

Warmth and comfort of home and food,

Golden glow of happiness and love 🧡