The night has a thousand eyes, Ā  Ā  And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies Ā  Ā  With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, Ā  Ā  And the heart but one: Yet the light of a whole life dies Ā  Ā  When love is done. Francis William Bourdillon
May 27, 2025

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there is something figuratively beautiful about the things we know and don’t know, the sublime and mundane and when you visit the beach, do you ever think about if the animals who live in the embrace of the depths remember the beauty of the ocean? where the salt envelops every single one of us,Ā  accepting us as kin letting her wind tousle our raw, visceral edgesĀ  and pepper them with her sea-foamed kissesĀ  which tell me that it’s okay to pretend and okay to tell the ocean all of myself the ocean reaches out to me, hands cloaked in the sharp coolness of water and something else- something i don’t understand as I poke around in a tide pool, like a vendor at a bustling market, observing the wares that the ocean has to offer and i turn around and ask her, do the barnacles see themselves? do anemones understand their own beauty, fragile and ephemeral?Ā  i don’t think they do.Ā  but the ocean doesn’t have any words for me, instead shutting my mouth with a shhhhĀ  as her sandy dress rustles down the shore, laced with white foam and gossamer trails of ripples and wordlessly, tells me to lookĀ  and i do.Ā  until the sun hurriedly retreats from the wispy radiance of the moon, enrobed in puffy clouds and it's just the three of us. the moon tugs at the ocean’s hand, dancing to their own secret rhythm,Ā  letting me see them in their love. personally, i think it’s beautiful \\ and i wish i had something like it and the ocean laughs. nothing jeering or ridiculing, simply an acknowledgement that i understand. everything around me falls,Ā  like petals cast off from a chrysanthemum. and then, we were wordlessĀ  like the ocean had never spoken in the first place.Ā  i want to descend into the depths of the ocean one day, to be hugged once more and never again. not because i am tired of being alive, but frankly within me exists too much zeal to live. uncontrollable surges of wow i am alive in flesh, blood through my veins, and thoughts in my head become more addictive than any form of fentanyl, cocaine, heroinĀ  and better than any gateway into a better lifeĀ  or a better existence, transcending normality and the moment it’s just me in my head, without the viscous energy of being alive suddenly drains me like a leaking bucket, decrepit and dry. i want to burn like a torch, setting my world alight into embers, into flames,Ā  into an inferno.Ā  Sunrise:: being alight || with a halo of only thoughts and dreams || and the divinity of something new
May 2, 2025
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In threefold lives and twofold tears I hold my breath but I can’t pretend it’s not happening anymore. I keep finding myself saying ā€œwe’re graduatingā€ again and again with no intonation because I truly don’t know what to feel. Maybe it’s a manifestation or maybe it’s just a recognition of the eventual, the eventuality of the end of the various hues I’ve been painted with at scad. In my minds eye lives a collage of all of the people whom I’ve cherished for four, (or five years if you count dual enrollment), to say I love them is an egregious understatement. To say I will miss them is simply diminishing an actuality. With me I carry this collage of love it keeps me warm when I am cold, and tender when I am stone. I helped me grow into my bones. Seen me and shone, people I’ve adored. I leave this place adorn with knowledge and love and a want for more.Ā Ā Chest heave practical in armor, holding onto the alternate dream of me, hoping, hoping for an offer, offering a life I am to live, if I just turn and run, if I just turn and run this time, lime green coconut leaves, spotted bedroom sheets, but the change is making me feel like i’ve already tried to hold myself a million little times,Ā Ā I try again, felicity in the way I falter, tell you endlessly, screaming colors of the ocean, push me in I adore it, let me live, I pour it out, strangers color me in the night, pieces of each of our mind, in a way we see each other demise each time, turn in, torn into sequins, sequential nightmares, its going to just end, in a way that I sink through the sun, into I construe again, I was just eighteen when I started this, made some friends I cherish, even, even if I lose them, I’ll still have a memory, of my beloveds smiling back at me, seen me grow, seen me weak, bleeding in through my knees, crying on their shoulders, painful hollow little laughter, walking through a tunnel, holding onto each other, I’ll love them like no other like a dream, no other could it be, in my perfect dream, many lifetimes lived with thee.Ā 
May 4, 2025
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I am blinking Mondrian tearsĀ  When I think about Henri MatisseĀ  Standing feather white in a shaft of darknessĀ  His red jagged heart splattered across his chestĀ  But the bravery, oh the braveryĀ  To dance and to danceĀ  And then to reach out to the starsĀ  Your heart of hearts Going off like a flareĀ  To join the star of all starsĀ  That only the brightness of angels will knowĀ  As The Rorschach test of your mind’s eyeĀ  metamorphosisĀ  And Mondrian’s tears heal the wounds of a pastĀ  cut upĀ  and then drawn out and then scissor kicked into heavenĀ 
Apr 12, 2025

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