Sarah Mohamed

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The Picture of Do...
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May 04, 2024 01:07PM

 
Projections: A St...
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read in June 2022
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Aug 27, 2022 10:45AM

 
The Emperor of Al...
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Sylvia Plath
“I have taken a pill to kill
The thin
Papery feeling.

--from "Cut", written 24 October 1962”
Sylvia Plath, Ariel: The Restored Edition

Fariha Róisín
“the revolution exists in the choice to see, that seeing is indeed believing and entrusting in a better future, for all.”
Fariha Roisin, How to Cure a Ghost

Sylvia Plath
“I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.

Clouds pass and disperse.
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?

I am incapable of more knowledge.
What is this, this face
So murderous in its strangle of branches? -

Its snaky acids kiss.
It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults
That kill, that kill, that kill.”
Sylvia Plath

Diane Arbus
“She lives always dressed as a woman and she whores as a woman. I would never think she was a man. I can't really see the man in her. Most of the time I absolutely know but she has none of the qualities of female impersonators that I can recognize. have gone into restaurants with her and every man in the place has turned around to look at her and made all kinds of hoots and whistles. And it was her, it wasn't me.”
Diane Arbus, Diane Arbus: Monograph

Pablo Neruda
“I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.”
Pablo Neruda
tags: love

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