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#literature
<div> —  Abraham Lincoln </div><span>And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.</span>
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They say, if you’re lucky, when you are at your deepest sleep you may hear the gentle strum of a true lady’s harp. As you listen to the plucking of golden strings and her enchanting voice, she will advise you to heed the warnings that ring through your ears. And if you do so you may just live to hear that melody again.

- 𝙰𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚜

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It’s not that I’m not like other girls, but that I’m unlike other humans.

*incoherent banshee noises*

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she could scarcely see an object in that room which had not an interesting remembrance connected with it. Everything was a friend, or bore her thoughts to a friend; and though there had been sometimes much of suffering to her; though her motives had often been misunderstood, her feelings disregarded, and her comprehension undervalued; though she had known the pains of tyranny, of ridicule, and neglect, yet almost every recurrence of either had led to something consolatory

Mansfield Park, Jane Austen

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I have no count of how many times I have wrote about missing you on tumblr. When I should actually be saying it directly too you. But there is no way I will have the courage to be let down by you again.

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<div> —  Rachel Wolchin </div><span>I assure you, I’m not put together at all. Nor am I broken. I am recovering - finding the beautiful in the ugly and stitching it into my life.</span>
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“Bonnard’s Nudes” by Raymond Carver


His wife. Forty years he painted her.

Again and again. The nude in the last painting

the same young nude as the first. His wife.


As he remembered her young. As she was young.

His wife in her bath. At her dressing table

in front of the mirror. Undressed.


His wife with her hands under her breasts

looking out on the garden.

The sun bestowing warmth and color.


Every living thing in bloom there.

She young and tremulous and most desirable.

When she died, he painted a while longer.


A few landscapes. Then died.

And was put down next to her.

His young wife.

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image

Jules Rylan, from “how it is to be twenty”, gravecleaner (2020)

[text id: i feel scared i will someday forget

how it is to be twenty, in this quiet place,

surrounded by so much good]

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“Sometimes I feel my skin must be hot with repulsion and with the effort to keep that repulsion hidden. I’d forgotten about him. The manipulation, the purring persuasion, the delicate bullying. A man who finds guilt erotic. And if he doesn’t get his way, he’ll pull his little levers and set his punishment in motion.”

- Gone Girl

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“You disappoint me, I didn’t expected this from you”

What disappointment? What expectations? You’re wrong to put your expectations in me, wanting me to be the perfect version of how you’ve imagined.. I’m only one, and can’t satisfy everyone for how they want/expect me to be… All I want is to be “ME” PERIOD!!

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Alright you sons of bitches. I’m getting a bit sick of the argument that thinking of things as ‘guilty pleasures’ or as not great pieces of media is somehow problematic. like, you’re literally buying into the argument that the huge white corporations want you to. Look, I’m all for the idea that we should be more inclusive in our media, I’m a queer gay woman for fucks sake, but saying that critiquing the media you like is somehow sexist or rude is *exactly what these people want so that they can make more money*. Being more critical of the media we enjoy and take part in is how we get more media that actually represents us well. In 2021 there is STILL little to no media that looks at trans people as anything other than a plot point or as a shocking revelation.  Stop simping for corporations and rich authors who don’t give a shit about you. Liking Twilight and being proud of it doesn’t make you a feminist, and what you end up doing is promoting more of the same unapologetic pandering bullshit women and minorities have been stuck with.

Also, I see you non-queer, hyper privileged folk being like “well this is the only media minorities have, so we should promote it.” OKAY MAYBE THE PROBLEM IS THAT WE ARE STILL HELLA UNDERREPRESENTED. That doesn’t make our media any better. Plus if I see another piece of trans media do nothing but sexualize/hyper feminize/hyper masculinize us I’m gonna fucking lose it.

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“so if you do this, this, and this …” she says, leaning in to click around the computer screen as I lean back and hold my hands away, “you’re done!”

“thanks,” I mutter staring at the screen despondently. she smiles, bobs, and walks away. It’s nice and all that the assignment’s done, but her clicking around and finishing it didn’t help me figure out how to do it.

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<div> —  Haruki Murakami, <i>Kafka on the Shore</i> </div><span>Things outside you are projections of what’s inside you, and what’s inside you is a projection of what’s outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you’re stepping into the labyrinth inside.</span>
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Dark Academia: Personal

  • Scribbling notes in a small journal with black ink
  • A cup of tea on your desk, near a pile of books, drenched in the reddish gold light of the sunrise
  • Staying up all night, black coffee and a candle burning keeping your company
  • Going to bed after sunrise and waking up in the afternoon becoming your routine
  • Being alone in the library with a storm raging outside
  • Walking home with a bunch of freshly purchased books in your hands
  • Spending the day in classes and the library
  • Spending the day in bed, reading
  • Mozart.
  • Waking up early to cloudy skies
  • The books you keep piled up near your bed becoming your cat’s favourite nap spot
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That’s the thing about human life- there’s no control group, no way to ever know how any of us would have turned out if any variables had been changed.


Elizabeth Gilbert

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