medicinal and poetic pro re nata

Joined May 2020
عشع retweeted
like a dream I can't remember
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عشع retweeted
I understand Persephone a little better tonight. There are places you know you shouldn't return to that still feel like home
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no
the ideal relationship you just go mad in pseudo isolation together speaking in riddles laughing hysterically and losing track of space and time but with a shared goal you’re working feverishly towards I truly believe this
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عشع retweeted
"The removing hijab epidemic" the hijab is the real epidemic literal social contagion among the hoi polloi
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عشع retweeted
my deepest darkest kinkiest most fucked up fantasy is that there’s a hospital with all the doctors I need in one spot and they all communicate and are truly invested in me and work together and figure it out and I get better. and its $35
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so this woman has turned lula’s victory into propaganda to win an oscar while also using it to bury google searches about the fan who died at her show. absolutely disgusting
this grammy and oscar campaign
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how do i start reading marx
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living with my oldest friend. ennui.
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It’s deeply disrespectful to us Brazilians, who spent 20 days mobilizing across the country, standing up to Big Tech and imperialist forces, to credit our victory as a nation to an American billionaire who said absolutely nothing about our elections. Delete this shit, @Variety.
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i forgot i don't have a job back home. nice.
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Who gives a flying fuck about Taylor Swift’s wedding photos? Who could find a way to care about something so bread-and-circus when elections are reversing the billionaire-worshipping tide? All billionaires deserve our contempt, not our apologetics.
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what made the entire internet call obsession a feminist film jesus
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witnessing orange yellow amber delights above a sea of clouds and god... beauty is vast and terrifying!
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مجھ سے پہلی سی محبت میرے محبوب نہ مانگ
(on a first date, breaking the awkward silence) when the machinery of your mortal existence finally collapses and the universe prepares to repossess your atoms and you draw your last breath, what poem do you think your heart will still be desperately trying to remember?
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where can a broke girl like me with two suitcases that weigh heavier than the heaviness of her soul go in a city like new york
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we're racing
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We know that beauty limps.
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