lit collection #4

hello, loves. i hope may is treating you well, and that perhaps you’ve been able to have some more time with those you love. i had the opportunity to spend time with my best friend and her family last night, which was absolutely wonderful, as i hadn’t seen most of them since december. i spent a lot of time with her little siblings, before she and i spent about two hours reminiscing about how we’d met and everything that’s happened these past couple years. i’ve really missed seeing them, and going to their house always brings me so much joy.

tonight i have some lit i’ve collected these past couple weeks. what with finishing up school and finalizing summer plans, things have been a bit chaotic, but i’ve still been able to rummage up some respectable words to share. 🙂

((a quick note: several of these are actually song lyrics i’ve selected))

-“least of all,” natalie wee (probably my favorite tidbit recently)
-“a better son/daughter,” rilo kiley
perhaps the world ends here, joy narjo
-“hello my old heart,” the oh hellos
hatred of women, cassandra troyan
-“someone to you,” banners
-“hardest of hearts,” florence+the machine
the more loving one, w.h. auden

and so is the lit collection for the week. i hope each of you are finding comfort and peace in your corner of this crazy world we share.

may moments (+lit collection #3)

hello there, lovelies. consistency is not my strong point when it comes to blogging. it’s been two weeks since i last posted, but i’m okay with that because i’ve still been productive in other areas.

may, when flowers become so profuse in the fields where i dance, when columbine blooms violently across graves. when the sunset becomes wonderfully golden, not sulky red and pink, but golden as it shines on my raptured face.

-g.m. (5/1/2020)

i’ve done quite a bit of personal writing in the past week, in addition to accumulating a nice collection of lit. over the past week, i wrapped up my spring semester college classes (doing both final projects the day they were due), and planted my garden. this weekend was well over 80 degrees for me, so i took a walk down to the river near where i live.

my state begins reopening friday, but school was officially moved to online for the rest of the year. i start new summer classes in about two weeks, and then wrap up my high school classes the next week. hopefully things will be getting back to some semblance of order and normality soon.

on to the lit collection…

the wasteland, t.s. eliot
-“tulips” by sylvia plath
-“mad girl’s love song” by sylvia plath

my own personal writing took off a bit this past couple days, so here’s a little tidbit i wrote last week.

contradictions: tracking poems, xxviii, adrienne rich
-“letter to the past after long silence,” sarah murphy

i’ll hopefully be posting the rest of the pieces i discovered in the next couple days. i hope all of you are doing well, loves. i hope you’re finding what you need inside of yourself, letting people love you as much as you love them.

lit collection #2

(literally all of these come from either pinterest or tumblr, so yeah- i’ll try to give credit to authors and such, but in most cases, i genuinely have no memory of who shared it with me)

the song of achilles, madeline miller (i need to get a copy of this masterpiece)
-“wild geese,” mary oliver
-the god of small things, arundhati roy
causerie (conversation), charles baudelaire
another wonderful line:

“O Beauty, flail of spirits, you know best!”

that’s the lit collection, loves. there are also a few songs whose lyrics really resonate with me recently that i’ve had on repeat, so i may put together a collection of those in the next couple days.

friday lit #1

(my goal with this series is to share the new literature pieces i discovered over the past week that resonate with me. these are taken from books i’ve read, collections of literature, and some of my favorite quote blogs.)

Beauty is rarely soft or consolatory. Quite the contrary. Genuine beauty is always quite alarming.

the secret history, donna tartt

Not to know. Not to remember.
With this one hope:
That beyond the river Lethe,
there is memory, healed.

czeslow milosz
-kitty o’meara

We consume, we are consumed. You couldn’t live otherwise.
-pat cadigan

To me every hour of light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle..
-walt whitman

Ah, awful weight! Infinity
Pressed down upon finite me!
-renascence, edna st. vincent millay

Because the sunset, like survival, exists only on the verge of its own disappearing. To be gorgeous, you much first be seen, but to be seen allows you to be hunted.

-on earth we’re briefly gorgeous, ocean vuong

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.

the song of achilles, madeline miller

There is no despair so absolute as that which comes from the first moments of our first great sorrow when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and healed, to have despaired and recovered hope.

george elliot