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Stumbling across signs of love (just a heart)

this heart in the concrete has been on my mind since stumbling across it. i am constantly wondering the story behind it. were they alone and took advantage of the drying cement to cement their love for passing onlookers to see? were they dared to draw something by a friend and their intentions were too pure to trace anything but a heart? but why a heart? the endless possibilities of a blank canvas for the public eye and yet they chose a heart? maybe out of fear that it would be erased if anything else were to be etched in stone? maybe they feared a name of a lover wouldn’t last as long as just a heart? but it’s just a heart. no initials. no “Oscar wuz here :).“ no time stamp or anniversary. just a heart. I struggle to find a reason of intention and yet this heart just stares back at me. but maybe this is love. reminding me on my walk that love exists. it comes and goes. it will show up unintentionally and unconditionally. there doesn’t have to be logic or reason behind it. there doesn’t have to be some long, drawn out story explaining how love works and comes to be. it can be just a heart. hardened in the concrete by an unknown artist who knows more about love than I ever could.

@oscargoller

Apr 5, 2024

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pda

No image for this one, use your minds eye with me Yesterday I was walking down myrtle ave underneath the train with my cousin and aunt, we were on our way to a private event at the library (im looking great thank you for asking, wearing this silky floor length dress my aunt had just given to me with my only pair of heels i got for an insane discount on the real real that are definitely not extremely uncomfortable) We pass this couple embracing each other on the sidewalk, the sunlight has crept underneath the tracks and is illuminating the scene like a golden sheet laid over them. Nothing distracts the pair as they lock lips. I doubt they even register my gawking and if they did it certainly didn't matter to them. And almost as if the scene had been written, cast, and set-decorated: on the woman's shoulder hung a violently red bag that read "lovestruck." When we arrived at the subway station steps about two blocks later I looked back and saw them far in the distant still in each others hands. My aunt and cousin said that was excessive, but to me I couldn't think of anything more wonderful.

@chloexposed

Mar 11, 2025

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Grasping the intangible

Are they the tingling feelings that you look back at or the fragments of memories that you struggle to picture in your head? Do you ever miss a person that you don’t even know? Perhaps it is an idea, a concept or a thought. You are trying to create the perfect person that will understand you, tame you and love you just like how you would. You do not seek for reciprocated love - you always feel like you want to give more and love more. It is your way of loving and who is to complain? However, a part of you aches knowing that someday when the time comes and you lay down onto a field taking your final breaths, you probably would have wanted someone to just whisper on how much they adore you, just like how ‘night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you.’’. Gentleness but also full with affection. Somebody who can withstand you during your energetic moments and your burnt out times. Someone who will stay next to you no wonder what; someone who is not afraid to present their emotions for you and only you. Someone who will try everything just to love you, get back to you no matter what. And I promise, from the deepest roots of my heart, that I will dearly love them where every moment would feel like the first time - the rushed heartbeats, flowing hormones, aching hearts and locked eyes. We will love the way that we do - and it may be similar to others - but in the end, we know that what we have is different and special for ourselves. Beethoven’s ‘Fur Elise’. The strong faith in love that was driven between Schumann, Brahms and Clara. Like how one composes songs dedicated for another and one paints in shades of pastels reminiscing of their significant other. Like the love letters written in ink that took quite a while to pick out at the store, wrapped in delicate enveloped covered with kiss marks. Like the singing and humming dedicated for the ears of the other. It is what you want, and therefore you wait - for who knows how long, expecting that person, who will achieve accomplishment throughout a journey together with you. ——————— Hello! This is my first entry hereeee:) The picture was carefully brought here from pinterest and was in my album, I do not know any individual in the photo but they gave me great inspiration on writing this piece. The photo really speaks warmth and radiates energy IMO - so romantic!

@whimseulcal

Jan 28, 2025

Top Recs from @florinegrassenhopper

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Analog sunday

No screen Sundays. If I want to listen to music its CDs or radio. If I want to watch a movie, no I don’t. If I want to see a friend, I will make plans with them on Friday or Saturday to meet up. As a result, I read more, write more, and sit with questions like “did Citizen Kane‘s 50 year winning streak in the Sight and Sound critics choice survey end in 2012 or 2022? When did Stephen Merritt come out? Whats the etymology of Whitsun?“ This is something that I have practiced off and on for many years but I’ve been doing it every week since December and I love the way that it just allows me one day of true freedom and rest.

@florinegrassenhopper

Jan 22, 2025

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One star reviews of parks

@florinegrassenhopper

Mar 3, 2025

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Writing down the things that bring you joy

My calendar this year has 52 of these week at a glance pages but I don’t think that way. So, I've been inspired by Ross Gay’s Book of Delighs to start recording the little moments and sensations that bring me joy throughout the day. An analog pi.fyi, if you will. heres some of what I have so far: - Waking up to the sound of my upstairs neighbor‘s footstep. It sounded nostalgic. Felt like company. - Strawberry jam - feeling tender for strangers: their lips, nail colors, their small wrists. Thinking of all the lives we hold gently. - A young girl bought an LP at the bookstore just before I left. She stroked its cover with love - Green tiles —the mint shade always makes me think of Jancie - Charlie’s little bop and punch dancing to some German language punk - lunch with Katherine, curry Brussels sprouts - small talk at the photo studio. The photographer's brother was named after their dad, stole his identity, bought jet skis.

@florinegrassenhopper

Jan 13, 2025