“Every time you say her beauty is only beauty because she is broken, her mournful is her pretty, how the right man will fix her, she bares her teeth. She summons Athena from the marrow of her bones, she calls upon Artemis and her wolves to sharpen her claws, she brings out Nemesis in her eyes, a determination so powerful it could turn the sky storm black, and then she looks at you and asks, “Do you really think I need a man to fix me when the Goddesses have my back?””
— Nikita Gill, If You Romanticise My Broken, My Broken Will Bite Back.
Tag: words
The rain comes down like a peppering of kisses this morning, almost a softer awakening than that of the sun that has seemingly gone missing.
7/31/2018 || O.L.
“Every time you think you are broken, know this: you are never really breaking. No one can break an ocean, darling, all you are doing, is breaking the glass that is holding you back, diving deeper into your own depths, discovering yourself in pockets of the most somber waves, rebuilding your heart with coral, with seaweed, with moon coloured sand dust. So stop trying to hold yourself back inside that glass, it was never meant to hold you. Instead, break it, shatter it into a thousand pieces…and become who you were always meant to be, an ocean, proud and whole.”
— Nikita Gill, The Ocean You
“i do not believe in love at first sight
but i do believe in recognition. seeing the same pair of tired eyes
in a new, unfamiliar face,
and catching their elbow to stop them
before they disappear
into the veins of the city. they look at your hand,
and then your face,
and they smile blindingly, saying – oh.
there you are.
i’ve been looking for you
everywhere.”— o.g.k (via anxiousbucky)
for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. i think this is another way of saying that there is a price to pay for everything.
and what is the price we paid, my love? have we paid our debt in heartbreak? or does the universe still demand more from us?
—
will we ever be done paying? // p.s.
the word lover is so infinitely soft. So universal. So timeless. Two girls with awkward, hungry hands. A boy and a girl in the dark. Two men in empty light. A marriage of 40 years. Letters over eons. Sappho’s poems. The corner of a mouth. Lovers, lovers, lovers.
cinderella marries the prince
and it’s… fine. The prince is great! They’re in love, he’s very sweet and passionate, writing her poems and songs, giving her anything she wants. The time she spends with her husband is great.
but cinderella is not royalty, her family was noble but she never spent time in those circles. She’s used to being busy, she’s used to cooking and cleaning and mending. There are hours, days, where she has nothing to do.
time passes. cinderella learns the fancy lady type of needlework. Learns to ride horses. Reads a lot.
as is normal for royalty at the time, they travel and are hosted by nobles or stay at castles owned by the king. But even that variety begins to become routine. The prince is distracted, there’s a lot of young women living and working on their route. Daughters of nobles. Younger and prettier with soft hands that have never done a day’s work.
cinderella needs something to spend her time on, and there’s a part of her thinking a couple-only trip might get her husband’s attention again, so she suggests making an old castle that’s fallen into disrepair their “project.” It was built in the time when castles were made to be defensible, so it’s quite sturdy, but it’s overgrown and secluded. The prince doesn’t know why his family stopped living there either. A hundred years ago it was their summer home.
so they go. And they work. And for a while it’s great! But when they leave for winter cinderella’s husband forgets her once again. cinderella resolves to make the best of her life and stop worrying about a man who has gotten what he wanted from her.
summer comes again and this time cinderella goes alone to the old castle (minus staff, of course, but cinderella manages to narrow it down to only repair workers and one maid). She can cook and clean and mend again, but this time it’s her own choice. She is happy.
this summer they make more progress on repairs. The workers say that most of it can be salvaged, except one tower that’s been completely overgrown with vines and briars. It will have to come down, eventually, but for now it can be safely ignored.
cinderella has more free time now. The old castle has a surprisingly untouched library, though time and moisture have damaged many of the books. Behind a collection of greek poetry cinderella finds an old diary. Very old, in fact, at least a hundred years. It’s rude to read a diary, of course, but whoever wrote this is long dead, and cinderella is bored, so…
from the description of activities the author looks to have been nobility. Maybe even a princess. She’s sensitive and sweet and smarter than she seems to realize. If circumstances had been different cinderella wishes they could have been friends…
after the summer ends cinderella returns to her husband. He’s spending a lot of time with a young musician and cinderella can’t even work up the energy to care. She does some research about the castle and the family she’s married into, finds out the name of the princess who wrote the diary.
aurora. Cursed and forgotten. She died young, they say, in a plague that also took out the castle staff and her own parents. Luckily they avoided a succession crisis, but not so lucky for the dead.
time passes. cinderella goes to the old castle again and again, even out of season. Soon enough all that remains to be done is the old tower, and the builders say they should tear it down and fill the gaps before it gets cold.
one night cinderella is restless. The princess from the diary had been fond of that tower, and cinderella is far more attached to a dead woman than she ought to be. She gets out of bed, reads by candlelight, and finally goes to walk the empty halls.
she finds herself going to the tower. Pushing past the vines that don’t seem so troublesome really. They almost part before her. The stairs are perfectly intact, the door at the top is already cracked open. As if she should have done this years ago, cinderella steps into aurora’s bedroom.
she’s as beautiful as the stories say. And sitting under her hands, crossed across her stomach as it rises and falls, is a book of greek poetry.
years later, people will tell the story of cinderella as a cautionary one. Don’t seek above your station. Don’t marry for prestige. After all, a girl who grew up as a servant once married the crown prince, and disappeared after only three years. She ran away, they say, she couldn’t handle the lifestyle.
two old women who run a bookshop together agree with the lesson. Marrying for the wrong reasons never ends well. It’s best to wait for someone you have things in common with, shared interests.
or, failing that, the more linguistic of the two says, wait a decade or ten for someone to fall in love with you from your diary.
her partner laughs and hits her with the socks she is mending.
❤
Aren’t all the good stories
always like this?
Passed from one mouth to another
with one or two things melting into the tongues
of those who preach the sanctified word.
Forever lost,
altered history.We’re seventy years worth of good stories
and for seventy years, many have tried to tell them.But somehow in all the madness
of good people and bad people
of right and wrong
they forgot to tell the story of how much I love you.As if the heavy slope of my shoulders
doesn’t write a hundred paragraphs.
As if the way I look at you
doesn’t write the singular ending.You are my epilogue,
my prologue,
and every chapter that exists in between.Everybody, sit down.
I have a story to tell.
some iconic dialogue that sounds like its from the great canon of literature but are actually from memes
- I will face God and walk backwards into Hell
- “I’ll do whatever you want” “then perish”
- I have been through hell and come out singing
feel free to add more!
- There are no gods here
- Do I look like the kind of man who dies
- God’s dead and soon we will be too
- I thought there were no heroes left in this world
• you kneel before my throne unaware that it was built on lies
- Impudent of you to assume I will meet a mortal end
- This is hell’s territory and I am beholden to no gods
- Bury me shallow, I’ll be back
– take this gift, for the gods surely won’t
- God wishes he were me
- One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe, and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled
