በመንገዴ
730 subscribers
1.49K photos
228 videos
8 files
137 links
My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery,always buzzing,humming,soaring,roaring,diving and then buried in mud.🥀
Download Telegram
PEOPLE AREN'T HOMES
Child, why did no one ever teach you that you cannot turn people into homes? People are rivers, ever changing, ever flowing. They will disappear with everything you put inside them. Still, your home does have a heartbeat. But it isn't one locked in anyone else's chest. Just look inside your own.
A painting of a young woman breastfeeding an old man in a prison cell.

The painting may look perverse but the story behind comes from historical records.
The poor man was sentenced to "death by starvation" for stealing a loaf of bread during the reign of Louis XIV in France.
The woman was his only daughter and the only visitor to his cell. She was allowed to visit him daily but was frisked thoroughly such that no food was taken in. When after 4 months the man still survived with no weight loss, The authorities were perplexed and started spying on her in the cell and to their utter astonishment found her to breastfeed her father to the fullest sharing her baby's milk. The judges then realizing the compassion and love of the woman for her father, pardoned the father and set him free.

This piece of history brings into focus how deep a woman's compassion in our daily lives is that men often tend to overlook.
• The painting was recently sold for 30 million euros.
To the people who helped me fight through the hardest times of my life...to the people who i owe my life to🖤💛🖤


And to my heart
🙂🙂🙂
Thanks for helping me too.
በመንገዴ
Thanks for helping me too.
🥺🥺🥺🥺🖤🖤🖤I love you
The best advice;






Train yourself to let go of
Everything u fear to lose
Forwarded from Twisted (Harriet)
🖤
Twisted
🖤
This what I call soulful conversations
I loved you in between the songs
of an unknown artist
and my heart breaks for
you everytime it plays.
-Yeab T🥀-
I would rather be anywhere but here...here where you hear mumbles of the devil...its whispers telling you to hurt whatever you might be feeling ...where cults sing in joy here in the midst of all hatred it hurts and in all that...now for a moment your arms are good....I can rest in them .
-Straight out of the trash can-
-Yeab T🥀-
In the beginning, I adored. What I adored was human. Not persons; not totalities, not defined and named beings. But signs. Flashes of being that glanced off me, kindling me. Lighting-like bursts that came to me. Look! I blazed up. And the sign withdrew. Vanished. While I burned on and consumed myself wholly.
በመንገዴ pinned «I would rather be anywhere but here...here where you hear mumbles of the devil...its whispers telling you to hurt whatever you might be feeling ...where cults sing in joy here in the midst of all hatred it hurts and in all that...now for a moment your arms…»
Forwarded from 536.