Latest Posts by victorlima1 - Page 2
this genre of picture 💜🩵
we grieve the future we will never have. we grieve the memories we will never make. we grieve the person we will never marry. i know that i am making the right decision by leaving but that doesnt make the grief easier. i am at peace with my own company but that doesnt mean i dont miss the comfort of having someone by my side through the ups and downs of life.
De: Fernando Sabino
Para: Clarice Lispector
Nova York, 10 de junho de 1946
Clarice,
Esta é a quarta carta que inicio para responder a sua. Ainda ontem me lembrei muito de você, porque um americano me perguntou se o meu relógio era suíço. A Suíça existe mesmo? Daqui de Nova York não posso te contar nada além do que você calcula. Tenho sentido muita falta de seu livro que deixei no Brasil, para plagiar uns pedaços quando vou escrever o meu. Tenho tido muitas dores de cabeça. Tenho tido muitos pesadelos. Tenho tido muito pouco dinheiro. Tenho tido muitas oportunidades de ficar calado. Tenho tido muita decepção com os Correios. Tenho tido cansaço, saudade e calma. Tenho bebido muito, muito, muito. Tenho lido os suplementos dominicais. Tenho tido vontade de voltar. Tenho xingado muito o Getúlio. Tenho tido muito medo de morrer. Tenho tido muita pena de Helena ter se casado comigo. Tenho tido muita vontade de voltar a brincar. Clarice, estou perdido no meio de tantos particípios passados. Estou com vontade de fumar e o meu cigarro acabou, estou com vontade de namorar de tarde numa pracinha cheia de árvores. Só de pensar que você estará lendo esta carta muitos dias depois de ter sido escrita me dá vontade de não mandar, mas mando. Me escreva, que responderei imediatamente. Como vai indo o seu livro? O que é que você faz às três horas da tarde? Quero saber tudo, tudo. Me escreva uma carta de sete páginas, Clarice.
Fernando.
horror → castles
It’s about how gentle you can be; with the rain that you’re touching, the grass you’re running on, the sunset you’re watching, the hands you’re holding, the flower you’re picking, the heart you’re feeling, the breath you’re taking; it’s about how gentle are
happy birthday evermore 💛🍁🍂
Evermore is for people who don't know if some incident is supposed to lead to their red era or their rep era. Their existence is made out of indecision and a couple of times when they bothered to take a decision, the outcome, well, it did not come out as planned. Scratch that, the outcome was terrible and now they're scarred for life. They can go from loving someone toxic and then missing them after they've buried them consecutively. They've been through a lot, please leave them alone.
My spirit soars where the air goes thin.
It’s a very tragic thing, not being able to write beautiful things.
Like you have the words in you, all the big words and their synonyms, yet you can’t put them in the right order, and you read all these enchanting extracts of books or poems that people write everywhere and still not figure out how interpret your thoughts in a way so beautiful and attractive like these writers do. It’s the purest yet the most devastating form of jealousy.
I want someone to run with under the rain, someone who wants to paint with me even if painting is not one of their best skills, I want someone to talk to about my favourite character and listening to them talking about theirs. I want someone to stargaze with. I want to share my favourite songs with them. I want someone who likes to talk about space, someone I can have deep conversations with. Someone to talk about art.
The worst about it is that I’m proud
help
“from the moment i met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me. i was dominated, soul, brain and power by you. you became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. i worshipped you. i grew jealous of everyone to whom you spoke. i wanted to have you all to myself. i was only happy when i was with you.”
mr oscar wilde, you’re telling me that they’re just friends?
“…and I suppose that the reason I hated him was because when someone you love leaves you, you have to hate them to get over them. Because if they don’t want you anymore and you still love them, how do you survive?”
i am so much older than i thought i was. it's as if one day i decided to run too far from the sidewalk where my chalk drawings are and forgot to come back. now i wander around foreign cities because maps do not guide me home anymore. i dine in timeworn cafés and write poems on discarded grocery store receipts hoping to brush my fingertips over those stolen years, but it only drifts further away each day. tender is the spine that bears one's childhood ghosts and this misplaced sorrow thrashes beneath the very skin i can never step out of.
i just need this love spiral...
Homenagem Fúnebre
É muita soberba nossa acreditar nessa realidade como a única e possível, e se ainda dúvida, pois bem, perceba: nossa alma, presa a essa carne de potência e ações limitadas, todas as noites viaja entre visões extraordinárias, que esse mundo, o qual chamamos de verdadeiro, nunca poderia nos presentear como experiência, é como uma promessa do que ainda não é e nem está, mas virá. Pelo dia passeamos entre pensamentos, ideias e o sonho dos acordados, aquele que nos tortura com idealizações e expectativas lindas, extravagantes, simples e mesquinhas desse mundo doloroso; e dói, apenas para provar como humanos e medíocres existimos aqui.
Nada nunca vai fazer-me desacreditar que a morte é tão somente outro nome para tratar a vida, por bem ou mal, um outro tipo de existência, mas com certeza, vida! Seremos livres depois dessa passagem? Assim eu espero: sendo uma singular e insignificante, causa e resultado de uma bela lúgubre implosão no universo, que o fim da minha existência seja um singelo feixe de luz dissipando na escuridão; e se tiver vazio, que eu preencha o nada então. Rogo em desespero, para nunca ser o miserável destinado a uma só e dura realidade, aquele imortalizado.
Isaac Newton is perhaps the greatest scientist who ever lived. In a world obsessed with witchcraft and sorcery, he dared to write down the universal laws of the heavens and apply a new mathematics he invented to study forces, called the calculus. As physicist Steven Weinberg has written, “It is with Isaac Newton that the modern dream of a final theory really begins.” In its time, it was considered to be the theory of everything—that is, the theory that described all motion.
Before Newton, the church taught that there were two kinds of laws. The first were the laws found on Earth, which were corrupted by the sin of mortals. The second were the pure, perfect, and harmonious laws of the heavens.
The essence of Newton’s idea was to propose a unified theory that encompassed the heavens and the Earth.
If a cannonball is fired from a mountaintop, it goes a certain distance before hitting the ground. But if you fire the cannonball at increasing velocities, it travels farther and farther before coming back to Earth, until it eventually completely circles the Earth and returns to the mountaintop. He concluded that the natural law that governs apples and cannonballs, gravity, also grips the moon in its orbit around the Earth. Terrestrial and heavenly physics were the same.
The way he accomplished this was to introduce the concept of forces. Objects moved because they were pulled or pushed by forces that were universal and could be measured precisely and mathematically. (Previously, some theologians thought that objects moved because of desires, so that objects fell because they yearned to be united with the Earth.
Thus, Newton introduced the key concept of unification.
In 1682, a sensational event happened that changed the course of history. A blazing comet sailed over London. Everyone, from kings and queens to beggars, was buzzing with the news. Where did it come from? Where was it going? What did it portend?
One man who took an interest in this comet was astronomer Edmond Halley. He took a trip to Cambridge to meet the famous Isaac Newton, already well-known for his theory of light. (By shining sunlight through a glass prism, Newton showed that white light separated into all the colors of the rainbow, thereby demonstrating that white light is actually a composite color. He also invented a new type of telescope that used reflecting mirrors rather than lenses.) When Halley asked Newton about the comet that everyone was talking about, he was shocked to hear that Newton could show that comets moved in ellipses around the sun and that he could even predict their trajectory using his own theory of gravity. In fact, he was tracking them with the telescope he invented, and they moved just as he predicted.
Halley was stunned. He immediately realized that he was witnessing a landmark in science and volunteered to pay for the printing costs of what would eventually become one of the greatest masterpieces in all science, Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy, or simply Principia. Furthermore, Halley, realizing that Newton was predicting that comets could return at regular intervals, calculated that the comet of 1682 would return in 1758. (Halley’s comet sailed over Europe on Christmas Day, 1758, as predicted, helping to seal Newton’s and Halley’s reputations posthumously.) Newton’s theory of motion and gravitation stands as one of the greatest achievements of the human mind, a single principle unifying the known laws of motion.
Even today, it is the laws of Newton that allow NASA engineers to guide our space probes across the solar system.
The God Equation: The Quest for a Theory of Everything by Michio Kaku
I’m having a hard time accepting death as I remain alive. I watch my loved ones go but where does my love for them go? I feel it leaving me trying to nest in undeserving places. These other people don’t know what to do with it. I feel it trying to return back to me but I cannot keep it, it does not belong to me. It belongs with them, the ones who are already gone. So I let it get swallowed up by the earth, bits of me I will never get back. I am only a fraction, I carry a hidden life by the side of my life.
Dara Karadag
why are we taught that the best love we can get is romantic love? finding our soulmate. why is that our uncouncious purpose in life?
we are ignoring small loves
loving the stars. loving the wind. the songs played by birds in the forest. the rainbow. the waves. the moment we realize we drew a smile on a stranger's face. or when we feel understood. listening to our favorite song as we dance in the rain. standing in silence with a person we feel most comfortable with and realizing words aren't everything...
"love is everywhere". that's what we should hope to find.
I travel to different worlds through my head, you can call me crazy if you want, but I've seen things and I've lived lives and they were all extraordinary.
The reason I like staying up so late is because between the hours of 12am - 4am, the world is quiet and no one expects anything from me. I can read or write for hours, draw crazy things, write poetry on my wrist. And there are no consequences. I can look at stars and moon for a long time, it’s so calm and relaxing.
I run from place to place, wanting to belong, wanting to find a home. When will I learn that my home is within me and it comes with me everywhere I go?
Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.
Midnights was a perfect album for all our thoughts that we have at midnight, which aren't very perfect, smooth or poetic to the core or storytelling kind but rather organic, about yearning, melancholia, sadness, depression, sorrow, grief revenge, thoughts that keep us wide awake at night, wondering about what ifs, should've or could've beens and karma and dreams and stars and rain and midnight melodies and musings and ramblings and starry purple, black and dark blue skies and advises from older self to younger self and all your deepest darkest fears and feelings and secrets and heartbreaking moments and missing people we lost and self reflection and loathing and romance and being in love and in lavender haze and being out of love and self love self hatred and betrayal and independence and being stuck in a spiral and in a labyrinth of our thoughts and midnight conversations and creative ideas that pop in our minds at midnight and the secret meetups and tragic endings.
I just wanted you to know that this is me trying.
folklore- taylor swift （ album moodboard ）
two years ago today, taylor gave us folklore and my life forever changed.
i can't put into words how much this album means to me. some might say it's stupid but it genuinely saved me back then, came right on time when i needed it and it felt like a bandaid covering my wounds as much as it felt like putting salt into them.
"time, mystical time, cutting me open then healing me fine."
Happy birthday folklore, the album of a lifetime <3
“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is pulled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry , beauty , romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”
-dead poets society
I guess I‘ll never forget you, no matter how hard I try