The Greek Word For "return" Is Nostos. Algos Means "suffering". So Nostalgia Is The Suffering Caused

OLIVIA RODRIGO - @/davis.bates via Instagram.

Consumed, David Cronenberg // Saltburn, dir. Emerald Fennell

rip regulus black, you would have loved "reputation" and "midnights"

guillermo and nandor / hands

For a minute, just for a minute, you made it feel like home. Maren and Lee in Bones and All (2022)

sisterhood

how terrifying it must be to be without a sister.

how do you get through life without someone linked to you in such a sacred sense?

how else can you be reminded of what you looked like only a few years ago?

how can you exist not being able to look into different eyes, made from the same womb, a perfect reflection but your complete opposite?

your other half, twin flame, someone you're linked to with love and laughter always.

how scary it must be to live without her.

-liv

DOMINIC FIKE Photographed by Harmony Korine for Marc Jacobs

“Querida. Veio-me hoje uma vontade enorme de te amar. E então pensei: vou-te escrever. Mas não te quero amar no tempo em que te lembro. Quero-te amar antes, muito antes. É quando o que é grande acontece. E não me digas diz lá porquê. Não sei. O que é grande acontece no eterno e o amor é assim, devias saber. Ama-se como se tem uma iluminação, deves ter ouvido. Ou se bate forte com a cabeça. Pelo menos comigo foi assim. Ou como quando se dá uma conjugação de astros no infinito, deve vir nos livros.“ 

- Vergílio Ferreira, Em Nome da Terra

RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE | Alex & Henry + hands

Alex and Henry's relationship progression through their hand-touching/hand-holding.

For My Mother, I love you but i do not like you.

For my mother, I love you but i do not like you. You created me, you made me into what i am. I am simply a mirror of you which is exactly the thing tried so hard not to be. I tried to erase every part of you from myself and yet I have still become you. My anger is yours, I hate my father for what he did to you. I hate myself for the words that spill to you when I am blinded by rage. My tears are yours, they belong to you. The tears I cry for what you’ve done are the same tears I use to mourn you, to mourn what you were and what you could’ve been. I mourn for your childhood that was ripped away when you were most definitely too young, all the while mourning myself for you doing the same to me. You tried your hardest not to, but in your own way you have imparted the very same curse your mother had put onto you. You ruined me and made me in the same brush stroke. I cry for the hatred you have instilled in me towards my own father. It was easy for you to make me hate him, because it was easy to see the wounds and scars he had given me. His hate for me came quick and rough, easily seen at the time, but the hate you showed me could not be seen in an instant. You did not cut me but poisoned me, fated me to die in a slow way, a way that i could not see until it was too late to fix, but i see it now. I both hate you and love you for all you’ve done at the same time. I cannot fix what has happened to you no matter how hard i try, i wish for you to heal from what you refuse to speak about. I realise the reason i am so forgiving towards you is because of all that you’ve been through, but now the scales have fallen from my eyes and i know now that these are not excuses but explanations. I pray that my daughter will not fall victim to the same curse that has run through the woman in our family for too many generations to count. I pray I will not turn her into what I have become. I mourn for you, I mourn for me, and I mourn for my future. I hope to one day truly forgive you for all the pain you’ve caused. I hope to one day be able to truly hold a conversation with you without being afraid you’ll say something you can’t take back. I hope one day we can say “I love you” to each other and truly mean it, but for now, I love you but I do not like you.