You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.
Ernest Hemingway (via untames)
It’s almost that time of the year again.
I chose the book haphazard
from the shelf, but with Nabokov’s first
sentence I knew it wasn’t the thing
to read to a dying man:
The cradle rocks above the abyss, it began,
and common sense tells us that our existence
is but a brief crack of light
between two eternities of darkness
The words disturbed both of us immediately,
and I stopped. With music it was the same—
Chopin’s piano concerto—he asked me
to turn it off …
But to return to the cradle rocking. I think
Nabokov had it wrong. This is the abyss.
That’s why babies howl at birth,
and why the dying so often reach
for something only they can apprehend.
Jane Kenyon, from “Reading Aloud to My Father,” in Poetry (February 1995)
Your dick is probably like a tic tac hahahahhahaha
I made pancakes this morning for the kids I was babysitting and they thanked me with free face paint, also by attacking me on a trampoline
Oh yes I love her like,
Seven Types of Ambiguity (Elliot Perlman)
A fascinating little video about the “Whispering Witches” of Poland. Their work seems very similar to that of the English Cunning Folk. I am glad to see their practices are being preserved.
this garage is heated also omg
such a cutie