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dollfrolic · 4 months
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Anneliese Seubert
A beauty.
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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The Road in front of Saint-Simeon Farm in Winter, Claude Monet
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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Monica Bellucci is just something else
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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Carrie Fountain, from "Late Spring in the Mesilla Valley", Burn Lake
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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Illustrations from Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales by W. Russell Flint (1913)
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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Nymphs by Moritz Stifter (19th Century)
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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Poor communication
I’ve kept my own thoughts and opinions for as long as I can remember. That feeling of inability to speak your own words towards others when you’ve been affected by their own actions does a damage unbearable. I think more of their own thoughts and feelings rather than mine when I’ve been hurt by their own.
Time is already going forward, whether I go with it or not. My actions are based upon me, I am not a child anymore nor should I remain child-like. I have my mother and sibling there when circumstances get too rough, but I have to communicate my own feelings outwardly with courage.
Words can be hurtful, afraid of speaking out that it may do the same damage as its done to me - however the realization that I can choose what vocabulary to use when expressing my own towards others is a privilege that I am grateful of owning.
It’s truly a journey with no destination or ending when it comes to communication. It can go several ways - yet an endless road ahead. How we go from one topic to another - but many paths are blocked and skipped by the feeling of uncomforted stigma that has been built to avoid.
We never normalize things such as mental health and how it is so difficult to choose what to say or how we feel. It is always seen as something that destroys a person - but never as something seen to lead a person to their own growth.
To this day, I still struggle. That is something I can continue to repair, reflect and heal on. Communication is a vital cord connected to the hearts of many. I will find my journey to comfort in communicating.
I will walk on this journey.
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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More / Less
More of
Self care
Books
Café runs
The art of noticing
Love
Friendships
Less of
Poor communication
Over criticism
Over thinking
Terrible relationships
People pleasing
Underestimation of knowledge and Abilities
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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Vardges Petrosyan, Years Lived and Unlived (translated by metamorphesque)
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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19 yr.o
interests in books, ghibli, traditional art and love for periodical architecture
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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The Wind and The Swallows, from At the Back of the North Wind by Frank C. Papé (1911)
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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Cats 🐈
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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It is is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially
Donna Tartt, The Secret History
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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“I look at the blanked-out faces of the other passengers--hoisting their briefcases, their backpacks, shuffling to disembark--and I think of what Hobie said: beauty alters the grain of reality. And I keep thinking too of the more conventional wisdom: namely, that the pursuit of pure beauty is a trap, a fast track to bitterness and sorrow, that beauty has to be wedded to something more meaningful.”
Only what is that thing? Why am I made the way I am? Why do I care about all the wrong things, and nothing at all for the right ones? Or, to tip it another way: how can I see so clearly that everything I love or care about is illusion, and yet--for me, anyway--all that's worth living for lies in that charm?
A great sorrow, and one that I am only beginning to understand: we don't get to choose our own hearts. We can't make ourselves want what's good for us or what's good for other people. We don't get to choose the people we are.
Because--isn't it drilled into us constantly, from childhood on, an unquestioned platitude in the culture--? From William Blake to Lady Gaga, from Rousseau to Rumi to Tosca to Mister Rogers, it's a curiously uniform message, accepted from high to low: when in doubt, what to do? How do we know what's right for us? Every shrink, every career counselor, every Disney princess knows the answer: "Be yourself." "Follow your heart."
Only here's what I really, really want someone to explain to me. What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can't be trusted--? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight toward a beautiful flare of ruin, self-immolation, disaster?...If your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? Stop your ears with wax? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow a better person? Or...is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name?
Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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(C) Sosuke Onoike
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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(C) Xi Pan
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dollfrolic · 4 months
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next year all our troubles will be out of sight
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