Me, Serendipity

Me, Serendipity


5T4S | Carol Froes. 19. Brasil. ♀
Eu moro nas tábuas de madeira e eu vou, provavelmente, escrever sobre você.



A woman from the audience asks: ‘Why were there so few women among the Beat writers?’ and [Gregory] Corso, suddenly utterly serious, leans forward and says: “There were women, they were there, I knew them, their families put them in institutions, they were given electric shock. In the ’50s if you were male you could be a rebel, but if you were female your families had you locked up.

Stephen Scobie, on the Naropa Institute’s 1994 tribute to Allen Ginsberg  (via thisisendless)

I’m just frozen. Absences of women in history don’t “just happen,” they are made.

(via queereyes-queerminds)

(Source: fuckyeahbeatniks, via lesbianed)




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(…) Eu juntaria moedas e compraria cerveja, pra alegrar teu dia. E você nunca me viria acordar sem sorrir, se estivesse comigo. Eu cozinharia. Eu faria da arte coisa fácil, coisa nossa. Frio você não sentiria, e nunca mais o mundo seria desprovido de cor. … Você nunca mais ia duvidar que a gente é feito pra amar. E ele saberia, qualquer pessoa que chegasse perto saberia, no teu corpo corre uma energia muito maior, muito melhor que todo o resto. Eu cuidaria de você muito melhor do que já cuidei de mim, eu te enfeitaria as ruas, eu me entregaria, sua.
Sinto falta agora mesmo, e o dia inteiro, do teu riso irregular e lindo, dos teus olhos infantis, do teu cheiro tão teu quanto meu. Sinto falta do teu corpo, do teu gosto, dos teus dedos segurando cigarros felizes em serem seus. Sinto falta da tua voz, do teu fôlego. Dos teus lábios, dos teus braços. Do que você me entrega, e do que te escapa. Do que você escolhe e do riso que te envolve. De tudo que vivemos e viveremos.
Sou sua.

desde sempre

clara delfino

(Source: bambeia, via bambeia)




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Love, you poison my typewriter. How can I write with every key screaming? Since you’ve left, I’ve had hangovers they could name battleships after.

Ernest Hemingway, from a letter to Martha Gellhorn 

(Source: violentwavesofemotion)




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Never, never tell them. Try and remember that. Never tell anyone anything ever. Never tell anyone anything again.

Ernest Hemingway, from The Garden Of Eden

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via andafterallthistimee)




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                                                   I want a night
                                                       with you.
                                                   I want to close
                                                     the curtains.
                                                I want to lay in bed
                                              and feel you breathing.
                                               I want the only noise
                                                   to be my inhale
                                              replying to your exhale.
                                           I want to trace my fingers
                                           along every line and curve
                                                    of your back.
                                            I want to feel your face
                                              buried into my neck.
                                              I want to lay like this
                                              and feel every worry
                                                        melt
                                          the same way that I melt
                                              when I am with you. 

amen

(Source: mis0neism, via threatenandadore)




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(Source: sirneave, via sarcasick)




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(Source: coconut-desu, via nataliasthoughts)




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I feel like my past is interfering with my present and there’s nothing I can actually do. I feel there’s just nothing. I’m unable to think clearly and I’m clearly unable to not let things affect me. Unable to force my brain to function, unable to just get to feel calmer in some way. I need some peace of mind and I need you to be here. I hate needing anything and yet I do […]

Simone de Beauvoir, from a letter to Jean-Paul Sartre 

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via a-saint-i-am-not)




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de tanto não fazer nada
acabo de ser culpado de tudo
esperanças, cheguei
tarde demais como uma lágrima
de tanto fazer tudo
parecer perfeito
você pode ficar louco
ou para todos os efeitos
suspeito
de ser verbo sem sujeito
pense um pouco
beba bastante
depois me conte direito
que aconteça o contrário
custe o que custar
deseja
quem quer que seja
tem calendário de tristezas
celebrar
tanto evitar o inevitável
in vino veritas
me parece
verdade
o pau na vida
o vinagre
vinho suave
pense e te pareça
senão eu te invento por toda a eternidade

Leminski

Enchantagem

(Source: eu-sem-poesia)




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Dizer não vou mais voltar, sumir pelo mundo afora
Alguém com tudo pra dar tirar o seu corpo fora
Devia ser proibido…


Estar do lado de cá, enquanto a lembrança voa
Reviver, ter que lembrar, e calar por mais que doa.




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Trust the vibes you get, energy doesn’t lie.

(Source: shanharlin, via bonecuddles)




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(via nataliasthoughts)




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(Source: tripsun, via 6h34mins)




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I am nature, watch me grow.

— Masu  

(Source: tiramasu, via adamthegirl)




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I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week.

Sylvia PlathThe Bell Jar 

(Source: feellng, via peacelove-freedom)




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