Ingrained with geological and historical memories.
ig credit: noctilucaxx.
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“-oh, it's not true, I don't wish harm upon you
from birth we've been like brothers of different mothers
within the spirit of the same womb
may the gods strike me down if I forsake you
´frater meus´, you're beautifully made
and to you I'm forever grateful
I'll never forget that you showed me to make art
and I know the love you showed me came
from a pure and noble heart
I love you, and if you want, I'll call you King
but why do I lie awake each night thinking
"instead of you, it should be me"?
something wicked this way comes
and as I set to face it, I'm unsure
should I embrace it, should I run?
what motivates me? hatred? is it love?
what's more wrong; that I too wish to be great
or my mother wished she'd had a son?
and even if I can't be the one
maybe I could at least help make way for him
until the day that he comes
maybe my name could also be known
that I helped return good to the people
and restored greatness to Rome”
- Brutus; The Brutress
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Stone is ingrained with geological and historical memories.
ig credit: my.inkedsoul.
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STATUE OF SMOKE AND ROSES
What is beautiful without it being broken?
What is smoke without flowers?
How can you understand happiness without understanding pain?
Why are the tears of the skin or the unusualness of a brain rejected when they are what makes life interesting … or worth living?
Why do we look at smoke, strangeness, something we can't understand and ignore its flowers?
Why do we look at each other and only see the statues? But when those statues break, feel like they're useless, ugly, unimportant?
painted smth but idk how paintings work on tumblr so I'm just gonna leave it like that
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