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🦢
I am made of urgencies:
my joys are intense;
my sorrows, absolute.
I fill myself with absences,
empty myself of excess.
I do not fit the narrow
I only live in extremes.
Little does not serve me
average does not satisfy me,
naives were never my strength!
All great and small moments,
made with love and tender care,
become eternal memories to me.
Words may win me over for the time being...
But actions either keep me or lose me forever.
I suppose understanding me is not a matter of intelligence but of feeling, of making contact...
Either it reaches you or it doesn't.
-Clarice Lispector
-Clarice Lispector
Jul 10, 2025
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😃There she was, dizzy and heavy; her past revealing itself to be as full of possibilities as the future. Oh more than the future. Because the past has the richness of what’s already happened.
May 13, 2025
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🤍Each one is a small life, but sometimes long, if its
place in the universe is not found out. Like us, they
have a heart and a stomach; they know hunger, and
probably a little satisfaction too. Do not mock them
for their gentleness, they have a muscle that loves
being alive. They pull away from the light. They pull
down. They hold themselves together. They refuse to
open.
But sometimes they lose their place and are tumbled
shoreward in a storm. Then they pant, they fill
with sand, they have no choice but must open the
smallest crack. Then the fire of the world touches
them. Perhaps, on such days, they too begin the
terrible effort of thinking, of wondering who, and
what, and why. If they can bury themselves again in
the sand they will. If not, they are sure to perish,
though not quickly. They also have resources beyond
the flesh; they also try very hard not to die.
Aug 17, 2024
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I hope you keep what resonates, and leave what doesn’t. I deleted IG for years. I got back on last August and have felt compelled to write - usually in moments where I’m broken open. My most recent piece I lay here for you:
My Melodramatic Dispatch 💌 (pt 1 of ?)
TLDR: The girls are fighting but they’re metaphors. Enjoy :)
(ft. life lately)
I like to think that Quiet and Silence are like sisters. And what’s the difference between them?
Quiet sighs sweetly with you in small and unnoticed moments--like pausing to admire spring blossoms, or the stillness after finishing a book you didn’t want to end. She reaches for your hand and pulls you close--offering an embrace during life’s painful moments. In grief, she sits beside you, feeling your ache and holding space for precious memories. She smiles wryly as two strangers catch eyes--feeling the world fade, and the pull of an invisible thread between them. When words fall short in sacred moments, she holds the fragile stillness of a shared, knowing gaze. Quiet is a gentle strength. She is permission to savor, to soften, to stay. Quiet is a doe resting peacefully on a sunlit patch of earth, present & unafraid.
Silence looks at you sharply, unrelenting. She sees past your facade and dares you to face the truth. She sits--sovereign & accusing--in the breathless gap of a lover’s quarrel. Her presence--undeniable and weighty--strips you bare, leaving only your soul. She leans against the doorway, arms crossed, as your lover walks through it, slamming the door behind them. She doesn’t flinch. She walks over, kneels beside you, & calmly places a hand on your shoulder. Silence is not cruel, but a reckoning. She rages. She deafens & consumes. She is a wave--denying you air as she pulls you under the weight of her.
As sisters, of course they argue. They arrive at the door of your moment--an unanswered text, an awkward pause, a delayed response--& bicker about who the waiting belongs to. Silence sneers, mocking your vulnerability. She floods your head with panic, cringe, & regret. Quiet protests gently, insisting there’s no need to spiral--nothing has been lost: not your dignity, not your strength, not your beauty or worth.
Ironically during the purgatory of a message left unanswered, or the unnatural lull in connection, you have neither sister. Only a cacophony of what-ifs & anxiety.
But as sisters, of course they reconcile. (To be continued…)
I like to think that Quiet and Silence are like sisters. And what’s the difference between them?
Quiet sighs sweetly with you in small and unnoticed moments--like pausing to admire spring blossoms, or the stillness after finishing a book you didn’t want to end. She reaches for your hand and pulls you close--offering an embrace during life’s painful moments. In grief, she sits beside you, feeling your ache and holding space for precious memories. She smiles wryly as two strangers catch eyes--feeling the world fade, and the pull of an invisible thread between them. When words fall short in sacred moments, she holds the fragile stillness of a shared, knowing gaze. Quiet is a gentle strength. She is permission to savor, to soften, to stay. Quiet is a doe resting peacefully on a sunlit patch of earth, present & unafraid.
Silence looks at you sharply, unrelenting. She sees past your facade and dares you to face the truth. She sits--sovereign & accusing--in the breathless gap of a lover’s quarrel. Her presence--undeniable and weighty--strips you bare, leaving only your soul. She leans against the doorway, arms crossed, as your lover walks through it, slamming the door behind them. She doesn’t flinch. She walks over, kneels beside you, & calmly places a hand on your shoulder. Silence is not cruel, but a reckoning. She rages. She deafens & consumes. She is a wave--denying you air as she pulls you under the weight of her.
As sisters, of course they argue. They arrive at the door of your moment--an unanswered text, an awkward pause, a delayed response--& bicker about who the waiting belongs to. Silence sneers, mocking your vulnerability. She floods your head with panic, cringe, & regret. Quiet protests gently, insisting there’s no need to spiral--nothing has been lost: not your dignity, not your strength, not your beauty or worth.
Ironically during the purgatory of a message left unanswered, or the unnatural lull in connection, you have neither sister. Only a cacophony of what-ifs & anxiety.
But as sisters, of course they reconcile. (To be continued…)
Jun 20, 2025
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Jul 11, 2025
Jul 11, 2025
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i do this for all my yearners. So a cute song that just pours out the feelings of longing and regret but with an amazing rnb club beat. Honestly not much needs to be said bout my girl right here she’s always gonna be amazing.
Go find someone you can be infatuated with n then go listen to this song. Go live in them delusions.
Jul 8, 2025