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  • agnosthesia n.

the state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behavior, as if you were some other person—noticing a twist of acid in your voice, an obscene amount of effort put into something trifling, or an inexplicable weight on your shoulders that makes it difficult to get out of bed.

  • midding v. intr.

"feeling the tranquil pleasure of being near a gathering but not quite in it—hovering on the perimeter of a campfire, chatting outside a party while others dance inside, resting your head in the backseat of a car listening to your friends chatting up front—feeling blissfully invisible yet still fully included, safe in the ...

dec 26 2018 ∞
jul 3 2021 +
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  • julia, 19
  • she/her
  • lesbian
  • brazilian
  • infp, 4w5, hufflepuff
  • vegan
  • letras - uerj

find me!

jun 16 2018 ∞
jun 7 2020 +
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" if she flees you now, she will soon pursue you; if she won't accept what you give, she'll give it; if she doesn't love you, she'll love you soon now, even unwilling"

" (...) the sweetness of your laughter: yes, that - I swear it - sets the heart to shake inside my breast, since once i look at you for a moment, i can't speak any longer (...)"

"as the stars surrounding the lovely moon will hide away the splendor of their appearance when in all her fullness she shines the brightest over the whole earth"

"i will let my body flow like water over the gentle cushions. then love shook my heart like the wind that falls on oaks in the mountains. you came, and i was mad to have you: your breath cooled my heart that was burning with desire."

"i think that someone will remember us in another time"

jan 5 2020 ∞
jul 3 2021 +
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      • cupido e psique

" — Por que queres me ver? — perguntava. — Podes duvidar de meu amor? Tens algum desejo que não foi satisfeito? Se me visses, talvez fosse temer-me, talvez adorar-me, mas a única coisa que peço é que me ames. Prefiro que me ames como igual a que me ames como deus."

      • apolo e jacinto

" Enquanto Apolo falava, o sangue que escorrera para o chão e manchara a erva, deixou de ser sangue; uma flor de colorido mais belo que a púrpura tíria nasceu (...) A flor tem o nome de jacinto e sempre que a primavera volta, revive a memória do jovem e lembra o seu destino."

jan 28 2019 ∞
jul 3 2021 +