apollonianposts

Latest Posts by apollonianposts

... One night a friend lent me a book of short stories by Franz Kafka. I went back to the pension where I was staying and began to read The Metamorphosis. The first line almost knocked me off the bed. I was so surprised. The first line reads, “As Gregor Samsa awoke that morning from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. . . .” When I read the line I thought to myself that I didn’t know anyone was allowed to write things like that. If I had known, I would have started writing a long time ago. ...

Gabriel García Márquez, The Art of Fiction No. 69 (interviewed by Peter Stone)

GOOD DAY TO EVERYONE !

Greetings!

My name is Osito, and i've been feeling very sick lately 🤧.

After my human mom took me to several vets, ran many tests, and bought me a lot of medicine , yesterday I was finally diagnosed with a neurological problem, left vestibular syndrome. It is treatable, yes, but i need to get an urgent MRI to discard tumors or strokes. My hooman mom doesn't have much money left since she's been unemployed for a while, and the money she earns from commissions isn't enough for this exam.

She can't do more commissions right now because she already has so many ( thank you people 🙏❤️), and during the day she takes care of me and my grandma , who is chronically ill and at night she work doing comissions and illustrations too! So please help me to  afford this examen wich is a cerebral MRI and it cost 413,83 USD ( 417.000 CLP) 

HELP ME TO REACH THE GOAL !

You can donate by paypal wich is

https://www.paypal.me/sashimiprince26

Or by kofi wich is

Ko-fi

Support Sashimi.prince24

Support Sashimi.prince24

I will attach the exam prescription and the price of the MRI

Please share ❤️❤️❤️ me, my grandma and my hooman mum will be very grateful ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

— Vincent van Gogh, from a letter to Theo

[text ID: but the sunflower is mine in a way.]

musings on poetry Anne Sexton, Victoria Chang, Carl Sandburg, Carl Sandburg, Richard Blanco, Henrik Edoyan, Anne Sexton, Czeslaw Milosz, Richard Blanco, Mary Oliver

I don't know what to do. I'm so lost in life I feel like I've made all the wrong decisions.

Let me ask you this: Did you get an instruction manual before you were born? Or attend a class titled 'how to live your life'? because I sure as hell didn’t — and neither did anyone else.

We live, we make mistakes, and we learn. We wander, we wonder, we make turns that don’t make sense until years later — if ever. Feeling lost is not only normal — it’s almost inevitable. There are so many paths, so many roads to take, and yet no clear map or lighthouse to guide us. So please, give yourself some grace. Be kinder with yourself.

You’ll likely never know for sure which road is 'right' or 'wrong' — and maybe that’s not the point. What's within your control is how you walk each path. What kind of person you choose to be along the way.

Try to do good. Try to be good. That's where your power lies.

March, 1933 The diary of Anaïs Nin [Volume One: 1931-1934]

I don’t feel guilt at being unsociable, though I may sometimes regret it because my loneliness is painful. But when I move into the world, it feels like a moral fall — like seeking love in a whorehouse.

Susan Sontag, As Consciousness Is Harnessed To Flesh: Journals & Notebooks, 1964 - 1980

When i say I'm OBSESSED..✨️☀️🌙

a quiet resignation. tathev simonyan

— Megan Fernandes, “Do You Sell Dignity Here?” from I Do Everything I’m Told

Dancing bugs. The population of an old pear-tree. 1870. Book cover.

Internet Archive

“You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating.”

— Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“To become a human being is an art.”

— Novalis, Logological Fragments I

from Vahan Teryan's letter to Antharam Miskaryan (translated by Tathev Simonyan)

Sometimes it’s absolutely scary to do something just because you care so much, and if it goes wrong, the disappointment can feel crushing. But trying is better than being paralyzed. There is more regret in inaction than in making a bad choice. It’s not too late to do something you’ve been putting off out of anxiety. You’re more than capable of doing this. Let’s try to think more about realistic future scenarios instead of catastrophic ones. Yeah, life is not always perfect, but you don’t have to be either. You are good enough as you are, keep going. You deserve to try. There is more to life than the awful scenarios anxiety comes up with and tries to protect you from. Just remember that isolation and inaction are cutting you off from the world, and it’s hurting you on the long run.

You are so much more than anxiety, than catastrophe, tragedy or failure. What matters most is that you keep trying, not that you do everything perfectly. Take slow steps. Do it at the best of your abilities without burning out. Each day at a time. You’re not alone in this. 🌱

Of chess, it has been said that life is not long enough for it, but that is the fault of life, not chess.

-William Napier

What do I do with my life

Can you please hand out any hope I can cling to?

I have notifications on for your posts and yet can't bear to open each one because I know it will hit me so hard I'll want to sink into earth

and I don't wanna die just yet

I want to live life vibrantly and with joy, grass, green, wonder, sunlight, all of the things that make it easy to breathe or at the very least, easier

pero I'm so lonely and achy and whiney and shaky I hate who I am and all that I stand for, I'm a fraud and a fake! I say I love love and then live in my hate I can't stand myself and my existence

I wish I could live inside poetry like a blog, like your blog, like a tiny post existing as it is, not real but real anyway, not real enough to touch but real enough to touch

What do I do with my life what do I do with my life why am I spending my days alienated and tested for things I'm no good for why am I doing this to my life who let me do this to my life what do I do with it now

hello, my friend! I guess we're on the same train now, plagued by the same guilt of being alive but not really living ... reading your message felt like a soliloquy, my own soliloquy for you so gently grazed your fingers on my bleeding wounds.

I myself am trying to make me live, if that makes sense. No one really tells you that you might have years when you have to actively convince yourself to stay alive, no one teaches you how to do that.

By clinging to the littlest of things is how I operate. a song, a poem, a photo, a minute, a memory, a tasty snack or a warm cup of coffee, an idea, a painting, a stupid joke I've heard somewhere — I gather all these things in my hands to keep them occupied, so that they wouldn't do something unrepairable, irreversible.

What I've understood so far is that we go through seasons of (1) living despite, (2) living for and (3) simply living.

You and I, it seems, are at the mercy of the first one. To live despite is what we should do — despite the alienation, despite the loneliness, despite these spiteful thoughts and horrors. Once this season is over, we'll move on to the second one: to live for. This one, I think, will be much easier to travel through because the days here are full of little droplets of hope that attach themselves to your skin and don't leave your side until you reach the final season: simply living. Living here is as easy as it is to breathe. This is our destination.

I know that I didn't answer your questions and that I'm not capable of doing so. I'm sorry. I myself have decided not to seek answers anymore. As Rilke said, Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. Perhaps you do carry within you the possibility of creating and forming, as an especially blessed and pure way of living; train yourself for that — but take whatever comes, with great trust, and as long as it comes out of your will, out of some need of your innermost self, then take it upon yourself.

I'm accepting the happiest days of my life (that are yet to come) as my lighthouse and I'm sailing toward them. Hopefully you'll do the same.

Take care 🧡🌼

Lately, not a single day has passed without the Armenian phrase "cavd tanem" [ցավդ տանեմ], directly translating to "Let me take away your pain", crossing my mind. A phrase filled with such deep devotion and yet, it's uttered daily and graces simple everyday conversations. In a sentence, it simply replaces the name of the addressee.

"Vonc es, cavd tanem?" - "How are you, [let me take your pain away]?"

"Cavd tanem, jur kberes?" - "[Let me take away your pain], could you bring me a glass of water?"

Such abundance of love that miniature rivers of it effortlessly flow into the most pedestrian pathways!

Of chess, it has been said that life is not long enough for it, but that is the fault of life, not chess.

-William Napier

launch out on his story, muse, daughter of zeus,

start from where you will - sing for our time too.

Instagram credit: tansybranscombe

good things to pay attention to more often

the color of trees

clouds and how they look different throughout the day

the different colors the mornings can have. sometimes it's an orange hue and sometimes pink and sometimes it's too misty to tell

pretty color schemes in random places (the trees and your neighbors wooden patio and the color of their car)

the states of the vehicles passing you by, dents and scratches and the different trinkets suspended from their rearview mirrors

the sound of silence

the shadows the lights cast in your home, like how sunset looks different than sunrise, and the shadows the sun casts look different than those of your lamps and candles

pretty details in buildings and houses like certain types of windows or doorknobs or archways

the movement of things in the wind. flags, leaves, flowers, people's hair and coats

who up experiencing divine madness

🌸 Kawaii Shop 🌸

from eileen by ottessa moshfegh

𝙵𝚢𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛 𝙳𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚎𝚟𝚜𝚔𝚢, 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 [𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟾𝟺𝟾]

[ID: For I don’t know how to be silent when my heart is talking. END ID]