Dreams Underfoot: UnquietDreams' Dark Whimsy

[UnquietDreams]

“When I realize that she is gone, perhaps gone forever, a great void opens up and I feel that I am falling, falling, falling into deep, black space. And this is worse than tears, deeper than regret or pain or sorrow, it is the abyss into which Satan was plunged. There is no climbing back, no ray of light, no sound of human voice or human touch of hand.”

--Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385638

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385639

 

[UnquietDreams]

Do you ever miss them? The person you were before your first heart break, your first time betrayed, before pain? Would you warn them?

 

[UnquietDreams]

I want to know you, all of you--your history, your failures, your faults, and your pains. Not that I can judge you, but so that I can know how to love you.

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385642

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385643
--Anaïs Nin, from The Voice

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385644

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385645

 

[UnquietDreams]

Almost without volition, I stepped forward, into her, pressing her between my body and the wall. My right hand was at the small of her back as my left buried itself in the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her head back. Her smile was fierce as I pressed my mouth to hers. I could feel her heart hammering against mine as our tongues met and danced together. The kiss was deep, wild -- not hungry as much as starving. My right hand slid down to first cup, then squeeze her ass cheek, pulling her body even tighter to mine. She moaned into it, something I felt as much as heard.

After several thunderous moments, I broke the kiss and pulled my head back slightly to gaze at her open mouth and closed eyes. We stayed in that tableau, not speaking, just breathing. Her sweet lips were parted as she gasped, then her eyes opened and met mine – hers were wild fire.

I ducked my head down to kiss the side of her neck once, twice. Then I opened my mouth wide and pressed it to her still bared throat. I bit very gently, just dragging my teeth across her sweet flesh.

“Mine,” I growled, so deep and wild in my chest that I didn’t recognize my own voice. “Mine.”

 

[UnquietDreams]

(Sorry, that's been in my head for a couple of weeks.)

 

[dawn_of_night]

"Did you like that? Do you want me to do that to you again?"

*Nod*

 

[dawn_of_night]

(Sorry, that's been in my head for a couple of weeks.)

Mmhm...
Sorry, not sorry...
I read. I read, it twice.

 

[dawn_of_night]

(Sorry, that's been in my head for a couple of weeks.)

That's okay.... It's been in mine much longer ....

 

[dawn_of_night]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/7352f555b3900d5bb93b1311557e4058/c23d505a36be9c4b-84/s1280x1920/6b1202a93c4c75dcdbc0b4fdbbfbdd72f6250724.jpg

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385891

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385892

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385894

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2385897
View attachment 2385898

 

[UnquietDreams]

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.”
--William Shakespeare, Hamlet

At the time, "move" and "love" rhymed, rhyming with "clove" today. In the play this is read by Polonius, but attributed to Hamlet, who sent it to Ophelia as a token of his love before she rejected him at her father's demand to test Hamlet for madness (that plan goes off the rails for Polonius, and poor, sweet, sad Ophie). This is often used as an argument that Hamlet loved Ophelia. But in Shakespeare's day, "doubt" also could mean "suspect," which flips the whole narrative. So consider the stars are fire, the sun moves, truth can be used in a lie, and Hamlet is incapable of loving. And Will keeps it ambiguous in the context here and in Hamlet's reactions through the play. Love Shakespeare...

 

[UnquietDreams]

"They All Want to Play Hamlet"

By Carl Sandberg

https://voca.ro/1hDMEZLjvuUj

(I never got to play Hamlet. Yes, I want to play Hamlet.)

 

[kathyisgr65]

"I would spread the cloths under your feet. But I, being poor, have only my dreams --I have spread my dreams under your feet."
-"Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven," by W. B. Yeats

While I am social, I don't want to intrude on other's spaces too much, so my own patch of nonsense and folderol. Feel free to join in if you would like.

Romance, sensuality, coffee, and books. Poetry, memes, lyrics, music, and probably more than a few gifs. These are a few of my favorite things...

Sounds like fun... don't mind if I come in and take a looksy..hiya

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2386087
"Ophelia," Alexandre Cabanel (1883)

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2386088
"Ophelia," John W Waterhouse (1894)

There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance.
Pray you, love, remember.
And there is pansies, that’s for thoughts …
There’s fennel for you, and columbines.
There’s rue for you, and here’s some for me.
We may call it “herb of grace” o’ Sundays.
– Oh, you must wear your rue with a difference.
There’s a daisy. I would give you some violets,
But they withered all when my father died.
--Hamlet, Act 4 , scene 5

 

[UnquietDreams]

View attachment 2386096

Oz was the best.