the sad truth of the world is that whenever you bring your book it’s not a nice day for reading outside but whenever you leave your book at home the day is beautiful and you are book-less, bereft, full of misery of the acutest kind,
are u ever sick w longing. and i don’t just mean romantic longing. i mean longing for a place you barely get to see, longing for friends you no longer have, longing for feelings you might have left behind in your childhood, longing for creativity, longing for a rich and more expansive life, longing for less inhibition. longing for more passion. longing for ur life to be so incandescent w something it thaws all the frost in ur bones. are u ever so consumed w it it rends ur heart in two. do u understand me
this is not just “look out the window and sigh” longing. i’m talking you’re at the grocery store and you’re suddenly hit w a wave of grief bc you don’t have it. you don’t have whatever it is you ache so badly to have. you go about your everyday life and yet it throbs under your skin moment by moment, almost as though it has a life of its own. that’s the kind of longing i mean.
st. george and the dragon (1908-9) - briton rivière / the vigil (1884) - john pettie / vanitas still-life (1705) - evert collier / david garrick as richard iii (1745) - william hogarth / micro sff stories tweet
Hey, I remember this microfiction! Perfect match with the pictures.
