Stranger Things
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
AnasAbdin
taylor price
trying on a metaphor
Janaina Medeiros
shark vs the universe
hello vonnie
Sade Olutola
Game of Thrones Daily
Peter Solarz
One Nice Bug Per Day
$LAYYYTER
@theartofmadeline
h
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Monterey Bay Aquarium
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from India
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from T1
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from New Zealand
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
@44shotsofvodka-blog
Do you ever miss yourself?
You know, before the broken heart, before all that shit that got to your head, before the words that were spoken in the heat of the moment? Before depression, alcoholism and ingrained, like cigarette smoke, nasty cynicism? Before standing in front of her window for five hours, and then lying in intensive care with pneumonia? Before ruining the business of competitors? Before your best friend jumped off the roof, and you envied him?
And the Sun was no more
The Sun took her.
The Sun wanted a human sacrifice, and they chose the most beautiful, the purest, his bride.
The Sun was doomed to be killed.
He’s been studying magic alone. All alone he cried over dead crows, cleaned his hands to scrub the blood away. All alone he asked the Moon for help. All alone he walked around the forest to find the rarest flowers, and trees and bushes slashed his face. He was trying to find the way in every grimoire, every book.
His throat was full of sand. His tongue and lips were black as coal. The veins appeared around his eyes. His arms were smoke-black. His heart was too probably.
There was only one book that had the answer. The most forbidden, the darkest book. But it wanted more, more Darkness.
With a steady hand, he slashed his arm - no blood, just ashes. Slashed his throat - a hundred of moths filled the room. He drank a bottle of vinegar - smoke streamed out of his mouth.
The book took it all: ashes, moths, smoke.
And the Sun was no more.
depression doesn’t discriminate.
poor and rich. healthy and sick. young and old. she is for everyone. and for no one.
depression loves wholeheartedly. in her arms, you’ll feel everything and nothing at all. at once and all the time.
she is the best lover you’ve ever had. or never had. both or neither.
you are the world for her. and she is - for you.
the two of you - in the dark dusty room - together forever.
she whispers sweetly bitter things in your ear, she says you are no good, you are nothing without her. you are, you are.
and you don’t remember yourself before. was there something? wasn’t you born with her, wrapped in her arms.
depression is there till the death do you apart. she’ll choke you softly and kiss your lips and lips and eyes. farewell.
Krymsky bridge, Moscow
pink dust
roses aren't red
violets aren't blue
I gonna die and you will too
three months without drinking. hooray
five months
scary and cold is russian fall
https://www.instagram.com/phenazzzepam/
https://www.instagram.com/phenazzzepam/
https://www.instagram.com/phenazzzepam/
https://www.instagram.com/phenazzzepam/
i miss thоse people, my classmates. i hated them at some point, i really did. they were better than that though. they were kinder to me than they could or probably should be.
i was a monster, not them.
it's not a good revelation.
“You must learn to let go. Release the stress. You were never in control anyway.”
— Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free (via goodreadss)
