Edgar Allan Poe, from a letter to Mrs. Maria Clemm, July 1849

— 🐚. hi, my loves,

i am back! i’m currently looking at a rainbow from my balcony as i’m smoking. i’ve just returned from my vacation in turkey and i’m back, brimming with sunlight, longing and love. i’ve recharged, my mind and heart is full of ideas and i’ve missed you all so much. these last couple of days, i’ve craved to start writing for you again, but i rested as much as i could and i finally started writing part two of berries today.

i want to share some of my memories from my vacation with you. the pictures i posted above are all mine—and yes, that’s me in the middle. all dolled up, reading a little before dinner. i didn’t fall in love with anyone this time (it’s my habit, vacation crushes are the bane of my existence), but i did fall in love with the country, the customs of the turks, their honesty, love, patience and kindness. i had a taste of all those things myself—a guy lent me his jacket when it was raining on a boat in the middle of a green canyon and i was shivering in cold; an old man wanted me to sit in the passenger seat as he drove us from the beach to our hotel; a younger fella gave me a handful of fresh strawberries he was selling for free, then a whole cup of them when he saw how much i enjoyed them; an even elderly woman brought food to my plate with a smile on her beautiful, sun-kissed face. conversations with strangers, language barriers, the heat, compliments, smiles and faint touches—i experienced beauty to that very extent.

i also had the opportunity to fall in love with myself. dolling myself up, wearing different makeup than i usually do, dressing myself in milky colors, grays, whites and browns, taking care of my skin in the sun, caressing the waves sloshing upon my body, curling my hair, filling my belly until it was so full i had to rub it to alleviate it from its ache—all of those things really helped me love myself after a long season of hatred. i drank, smoked, read, dreamed, danced and laughed. i needed it like the air i breathe. 🩶

i walked until my feet and back hurt. thought of namjoon everyday, of how much he would’ve loved the beauty i saw. brought jungkook with me everywhere (and photocards of the rest of the boys in my wallet). and those stars you see? i will pour them into my writing for you, fill you with what i’ve been filled with, make you nice and full.

hope my kisses lasted you for the week. i am sending another set of them—i hope you can feel them.

mwah, mwah.

thank you for leaving me messages to come back to. it makes my love grow larger. i cherish it with everything in me.

i love you, guys, so much. too much.

luna

i stumbled across this. i have lots of new followers who may not know what i look like. here you can see a little bit of me 😌 on one of my happy vacations of this year—in my beloved turkey.

my hair is a bit longer now, but the makeup stayed. dark eyeliner, dark brown lips. i also look a little older now 🙈 25 does that to you.

i wish i could go back, but i remind myself that i have so many things to look forward to in the future. 🤍

Maya C. Popa, from Wound is the Origin of Wonder: Poems: “Wound is the origin of wonder”

ALT

Virginia Woolf, A Passionate Apprentice: The Early Diaries

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

Fyodor Dostoevsky, from The Idiot

❋ ࣪ ⊹ stuck with you in your dreams 𓂂 ˚ ﹒

🍾 ⏆   ．🍸  ﹢

(© pic koodakz on twt)

“…she put a touch of perfume at her temple and between her breasts; the earth was perfumed with the aroma of a thousand crushed leaves and flowers…”

— Clarice Lispector, from The Book of Delights; “The Beginning of Spring,”