Avatar

starkindler

@aelbereths / aelbereths.tumblr.com

agua; infp; she/her; mostly an archive these days
Avatar
reblogged
Avatar
geopsych
“Ordinarily I go to the woods alone, with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore unsuitable. I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my ways of praying, as you no doubt have yours. Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds, until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing. If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.”

How I Go to the Woods, by Mary Oliver

Avatar
reblogged

I was forwarding these to a friend and figured it’d be worth sharing them all here too so enjoy some free books and essays and things in no particular order:

Avatar
reblogged
Avatar
sleepbby

western ppl talking about the poor conditions of women’s rights and lgbt rights in africa, asia, the middle east and south america is so frustrating and stupid bc U LITERALLY DID THAT!!!!! most laws prohibiting same sex relationships etc or laws restricting women were imposed on these regions by western imperialism. although the situation has changed in the west, the countries that suffered under western presence still largely hold on to the old western legislature. India is an example, where lgbt ppl are still struggling to undo the laws imposed on them by the british, Japan is an example, as they only prohibited same sex relations for 7 years in order to become part of the international community. westerners influenced and messed up countries with such progressive cultures and now dare point the finger at those ‘backwards savages’. the only inhumane thing u are looking at is hundreds of cultures destroyed to fit western culture.

Avatar
reblogged

TO BE LOVED

“oh, reminisce!” | chapter 1

mentions of blood and violence, death, bad/neglectful parents, spousal abuse, descriptive imagery. read with caution.

     She sobbed when she did it. Sobbed a disturbing, blinding sort of cry each time she plunged the sharpened kitchen knife into her now deceased husband’s chest. Anguished, jagged whimpers fell from her at each jerk of the knife, blood dribbled down her honey-kissed skin, coated her round cheeks…

It was blood that was never her own.

She sobbed for it all- Sobbed for everything that she once had, sobbed for everything that she lost, and sobbed for everything that she had endured in the years of marriage. More than that, however, she sobbed because she knew authorities would never take any of her reasons for killing her husband into account. What they would simply see was a deranged housewife murdering her wealthy, notorious lover in a fit of passion– The thirty-seven and counting stab wounds in his chest would truly only work to prove it. No… No law enforcement would ever see it Yera’s way… Would never understand the swirling chaos that she’d been put through from birth to marriage that had lead to that very moment in time.

You are using an unsupported browser and things might not work as intended. Please make sure you're using the latest version of Chrome, Firefox, Safari, or Edge.