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Contamination of the teenage soul

@neverendingteenageangst

If I show you my dark side will you still hold me tonight

suddenly remembered this poem as i was making breakfast this morning & frantically googled “poem remembered to buy eggs?????????” & somehow managed to find it & it utterly knocked the wind out of me just as much as when i first read it

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ntaliavr
“I like to think that nothing’s final, and that everyone gets to be together even when it looks like they don’t, that it all works out even when all the evidence seems to say something else, that you and I are always young in the woods, and that I’ll see you sometime again, even if it’s not with any kind of eyes I know of or understand.”

— Jodi Lynn Anderson, Tiger Lily (via bermuda-buttercup)

So I’m just going to leave this picture of an old Pablo Picasso here for reference.

Not to be dramatic but this is absolutely the right way to deal with creepy old men whose “art” is just pictures of naked women

By the way if you like cubism but really dont want to look at Picasso, check out Francoise Gilot. She tends to do a lot of really stylized paintings of women but… Yanno. Without the abuse.

She’s also one of Picasso’s exes and consequently one of his muses. She’s spoken at length about her experience. And thus far, she’s had some pretty sweet revenge. She’s free, her artwork is simply gorgeous, and she’s still alive today (as of 2020) at the age of 98!

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Edit: i would also like to add that Gilot was already an accomplished artist when she became involved with Picasso, and he completely sabotaged her career when she left him. He discouraged museums from showing her work, and he unsuccessfully tried to block the publication of her memoir, Life with Picasso. To my knowledge, she’s the only one of his “muses” who is still alive, so let’s maybe take this time to explore and celebrate the work of a woman who was overshadowed by her abuser.

you wear an ancestor's face. you look like a woman you'll never meet. in that mirror, there's thousands of you. and in the bath, when you look down, she looks back, shaking and deforming in the ripples as she lies beneath the surface.

“I know you think that we were meant to be together, and I believed that too, for a while. But I think we’re trying too hard to keep something that has already been broken, from breaking. You and I, we will never be happy together. And it was hard to come to terms with this realization, but sometimes, caring about someone isn’t a good enough reason for being with them. I am so sorry that we could not find a way to make each other happy. I will be thinking about you ten years from now, wondering how things would have been if we could have made it work. Your name will always sound like a tragedy to me. When my children ask me about my past, you will have taken up so much of it. I will tell them about you, I will tell them about how much I loved you, and how badly I wanted for it to work out, and how sometimes, letting go is the [only] option. I cannot bear to see you with anyone else, but I am going to have to. We were never good together. We always knew this couldn’t last forever, we couldn’t last forever.”

— October 18th, 2015