whenever i'm not in school i romanticize it so much i'm always like "man i can't wait to write essays again" no you don't are you insane
“what if the house was haunted” what if the house WASNT haunted. what if your continual presence there is what corrupts. what if you are what haunts this house
Sainte-Chapelle de Vincennes and The Tree of Life by Joana Vasconcelos, (04/08/2023)
hate to do this but i have less than 90 bucks in my bank account and unexpected bills have been and are still coming up (for my glucose/diabetes sensors, internet, lunch at university, and getting my meds from the pharmacy) and i'm currently out of a job (starting a new one in october) so if you have a few euros/dollars to spare and like my writing or my blog or just have a kind heart and want to help me stop losing sleep over this, my p4ypal.me is /yooomfs . even a reblog helps thank you so much ♡
i am not immune to stories in which characters who have endured harsh, empty existences become absolutely transformed by someone’s sincere love for them and learn to live
love is stored in many things. like forehead kisses, "this reminded me of you", knowing how they like their favorite drink, listening to them talk about their favorite things, sharing songs/movies/tv shows, knowing what weird memes would make them laugh, checking in during the day, making them laugh after they cried, rubbing their hand with your thumb, hearing their real laugh, eye contact, a playlist. love is all around <3
A short comic I made about my experiences as a seasonal worker, and the way places change you.
Dear, sweet, Littlefoot, do you remember the way to the Great Valley? I guess so. But why do I have to know if you’re going to be with me? I’ll be with you. Even if you can’t see me. What do you mean I can’t see you? I can always see you.
The Land Before Time(1988) dir. Don Bluth
I am:
○ Male
○ Female
○ Other
● drowning (there is no sign of land) (you are coming down with me) (hand in unloveable hand)
“Regenerative experiences: Plunge into the sea. The sun. An old city. Silence.”
— Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks, 1964-1980 (via mrsclarkkent)
Sue zhao/Ryan O'Connell
Mary Oliver, from “When Did It Happen?,” Felicity: Poems (Penguin Press, 2015)
I'll Eat You Up, I Love You So
A Primer For the Small Weird Loves, Richard Siken | The Embrace II, Ron Hicks | Henry and June: From “A Journal of Love,” The Unexpurgated Diary (1931-1932) of Anaïs Nin, Henry Miller (@theoptia) | the night belongs to lovers, Ilaria Ratti | Dark. Sweet.: New & Selected Poems, Linda Hogan (@feral-ballad) | Intimacy, Angelica Alzona | Shame is an Ocean I Swim Across, Mary Lambert (@synbeam) | The Kiss, Edvard Munch | Summer Morn in New Hampshire, Claude McKay
You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago.
- Alida Nugent
Deleting pics is one of my hardest decision in life because i'm such a memory keeper
