3 August , 2024

3 August , 2024

"For every life I can’t save during my shift, one more drop of blood becomes a part of me. No matter how many times I wash my hands, our martyrs’ blood seeps beneath my skin, into my cells. By now it’s probably encoded in my DNA."

Zoulfa Katouh,

  As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow

What an exhausting day it was. A brief afternoon drizzle washed away the dark canopy, but the sunset poured into my room, casting a warm glow that revived my spirits.

Here's to whatever's next

writtenbyjv on Instagram/ @fairycosmos /barbaricbrownbiblophile on Instagram/es.trig on Instagram/David Leviathan/Richard Siken/loveandfear on Twitter

I am afraid of getting older. I am afraid of getting married. Spare me from cooking three meals a day--spare me from the relentless cage of routine and rote. I want to be free. I want, I think, to be omniscient.

Sylvia Plath, Letters Home

September 7, 2024 I’ve been thinking that you are my country. Is that a strange thing to say? Without you, I don’t have a home 🏡 in this world; I am a felled tree, 🪵my roots severed all round; you can topple me with the touch of a finger.

Elif Shafak, The Island of Missing Trees

When Carmen Rodrigues said, "and in the silence I suddenly understood the many ways a person can die but still be alive," and when Fyodor Dostoevsky said, "I'm a master of speaking silently, all my life I've spoken silently and I've lived through entire tragedies in silence," and when Anonymous said, "silence is the most powerful scream."

I've felt that.

louise glück, the white series // claude monet, houses in the snow // fyodor dostoyevsky, the gentle spirit // jane o. wayne, with solitude //reddit user artsykate, winter nocturne with lonely road // joseph brodsky, to m.b. // fyodor dostoevsky, poor folk // caspar david friedrich, winter landscape // audre lorde, the cancer journals // mahmoud darwish, memory for forgetfulness