inevitabletemptationn

Latest Posts by inevitabletemptationn

Louise Glück, from “The Burning Heart”, Poems 1962 - 2012

Chelsea Dingman, Through a Small Ghost

— Roland Barthes, A Lover's Discourse; Fragments [translated by Richard Howard]

Franz Kafka, from a letter to Milena Jesenka featured in "Letters to Milena,

— v, excerpts from a book i’ll never write #2 (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

— Sappho ; 51

the lover’s almanac : part one.

— Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice (via lunamonchtuna)

— unknown (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

Pride & Prejudice (2005) dir. Joe Wright

Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "White Owl Flies Into and Out of the Field," featured in A Century of Poetry in the New Yorker

“I have so much to say to you that l am afraid I shall tell you nothing.”

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Martha Gellhorn, from a letter to Bernard Berenson featured in The Selected Letters of Martha Gellhorn

can you hear the music?

— Danez Smith, from "summer, somewhere" (via lunamonchtuna)

— unknown (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

Ilya Kaminsky, from "Alfonso Stands Answerable", Deaf Republic

- 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚜.

Joy Sullivan, "Ghost Heart", Instructions for Traveling West

— virginia woolf , carlyle's house and other sketches (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

Lidia Yuknavitch, from Reading the Waves: A Memoir published in 2025

— Khalil Gibran

— V, from “excerpt from a book i will never write” (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals

I think my whole life ive been day dreaming.

I remember the way the sun touched my face as I watched my father walk away over and over,

The smell of the air mixed with the flowers in fresh spring as my mother fell apart once again and left me to pick up every piece.

As a child I was always comforted by the “what ifs” that id pull from my imagination.

What if they love me enough tomorrow? What if they read me a story while I sleep?

I felt the wind flowing through my hair and the stars make just enough light to illuminate the path my father ran too with me lingering behind in the dark.

The sounds my fingers made caressing my mother’s cheek trying to make her pain a little less while mine was bleeding out the seams.

What if im the reason? What if I made them hate the life God has given them?

I have never known the truth of unconditional love because my love has always needed a reason, an act of service when I was only learning to tie my shoes.

I was raised in a house full of anger, distortion and begging,

They say you take parts of your childhood with you into adulthood but all I have seemed to hold onto is the rage. I’m unable to love and in return unlovable.

I am sewed together with tiny memories of all of the times I was closed behind my bedroom door asking God to show me himself.

I chase the broken because im only worthy if im fixing something and I am capsized in the grief of others.

I have a tendency to be abrasive and wear my father’s agony on my shoulders like a shield.

What if I disappeared and my heart stopped beating?

alessandro teoldi

Nicole Brossard, from a diary entry featured in Intimate Journal published in 1999