marginalia

sandmoonyelse:

where words ceased to be…

(via t0uch-starved-h0e)

etherealibrary:

(via weeping-poetry)

artist-matisse:

Blue Nude, 1952, Henri Matisse

https://www.wikiart.org/en/henri-matisse/blue-nude

artist-cross:

Les Petits, Montagnes Mauresques, 1909, Henri-Edmond Cross

Medium: oil,canvas

(via laurenslunchbox)

Two spheres

I thought I might send an email, just to reconnect

I sent two, and got an ill-desired response

It wasn’t bad, but it was clear that 

We weren’t on the same page

The idea in my mind didn’t match with

Our independent, severed realities

Still I ended up in your apartment

You had already left, but the key let me in

It was disheveled and half-packed

I tried to find a ring, to see if it fit 

And chopped shrimp was left on 

A cutting board; I worried about the smell

The kitchen had carpeting and I saw

Evidence you moved to Spain, with her

So that’s where I went next

And I found you, I think I said something strong

My actions withered away your 

Initial hesitation to talk 

But she was sick, and so I hid

Nothing happened, but an idea was put forth 

I’m not sure what happened next;

It was after all, a dream

(via blue-240d-deactivated20200202)

(via tealiteful-deactivated20190307)

(via broadens)

(via blueindigosea)

(via terezasuniverse)

(via tealiteful-deactivated20190307)

(via blueindigosea)

theriverjordyn:

I think the point is to love your own life, all by yourself, in the simplest, deepest way possible and not feel like you have to explain that to anyone else.

(via tealiteful-deactivated20190307)

I notice Autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature.

Friedrich Nietzsche  (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(via jeremiah-daniel)