undulate

Mina.
Poet.
Escapist.
Keatist.
Studying Actor Training in Melbourne








Interests:
nature, green eyes, anything bohemian, vines, gypsies, cocktails, flamenco, roberto cavalli, stain glass, spices, texture, chinese philosophy, bollywood, dancing, meanings of colours, expressions, drama, , hemp jewelery, bath robes, bakeries, sea food.

The Butoh costume is like throwing the cosmos onto one’s shoulders. And for Butoh, while the costume covers the body, it is the body that is the costume of the soul. -Kazuo Ohno
Photo of Kazuo Ohno by Eikoh Hosoe

The Butoh costume is like throwing the cosmos onto one’s shoulders. And for Butoh, while the costume covers the body, it is the body that is the costume of the soul. -Kazuo Ohno

Photo of Kazuo Ohno by Eikoh Hosoe

(Source: kalliope-amorphous)

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.

— Mary Oliver (via realizes)

I don’t tell the truth any more to those who can’t make use of it. I tell it mostly to myself, because it always changes me.

—Anaïs Nin (via better-than-sex)

(via fuckyeahanaisnin)

I am at one with a sea of sensations, glitter, silk, skin, eyes, mouths, desire.

—Anaïs Nin; The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1  (via rabbitinthemoon)

(via fuckyeahanaisnin)

mdbjc:

From Merrie Melodies’ Cross Country Detours.

smells like apostasy

Tiny birds carry hot stones.
ready to burn the ground.
mountains turn to cotton wool
and people fall dead like butterflies.
The waves roar and the children drown
like in my religious text books.

Black bridge over hell
Sharp like a sword
Thinner than a strand of hair
Torn into seven.
Strike a balance
because if you fall
get ready

Get ready for animalistic demons.
Get ready for the torture on rotation
Get ready for your crotches to burn
and itch over and over again.
Get ready for your breasts to bleed


I can hear the crackling whispers
From a throne that tempts
teases and then rolls back in laughter.

This ugly deal
makes no sense.
The tying of lived bodies aching in everlasting oil.
While the white light papers fly in the wind

There will be a huge blanket of green
thats coats all our bodies
as we wait
in a sick thick moss lullaby
For a rusty pair of scales