Cosmic Funnies
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h
Fai_Ryy
cherry valley forever
Doug Jones
Show & Tell
izzy's playlists!
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
tannertan36
shark vs the universe
blake kathryn
Noah Kahan
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Discoholic 🪩
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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if i look back, i am lost
#extradirty
seen from Poland
seen from France
seen from Italy
seen from Vietnam
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Nepal
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from Indonesia
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
@adrianhatch
And in that moment I felt infinite, there was no such thing as yesterday or tomorrow. Time was frozen but still went by way too fast. All of our heartbreak and transgressions suddenly disappeared with the touch of our lips. You and I were the only two people in existence. I was intoxicated by your touch and disoriented by your kiss. Once again I felt nothing but pure bliss.
Marilyn Monroe in 'Niagara' (dir. by Henry Hathaway) [1953]
Friendzone
Once again I find myself in the art of the friendzone, Or maybe the “you’re not wealthy or handsome enough, but don’t go too far from home” zone.
The “there might be somebody better,” “I might get my family back together,” but I love the way you make moments last forever.
So don’t get lost. Please pick up the phone. Because you’re always there when he leaves me alone.
It’s 8 PM. You put the kids to sleep, turn your phone over just to take a peek.
The man you want left you on read, but what do you see? It’s me.
See, I trip and stumble over a lot of things, but my feelings? They aren’t weak.
Fuck my head up all you want.
Soon as I see that text — “where you at, where you be?”
Babygirl, I’m already on 290 with the weed, hitting the toll road, no tag, fuck a fee.
Windows cracked. Music low. Mind running laps around things I’ll probably never let you know.
Cause truth is, I don’t even think I want the fairytale anymore. I just want consistency. I want somebody that reaches for me the same way I reach for them when the world gets heavy.
But instead I became the in-between. The safe place. The “I need you right now” but never the “let’s build something” thing.
And maybe that’s on me.
Maybe I loved too loudly. Maybe I gave pieces of myself away like I had extras stored underneath the seat.
Maybe every time you said “I don’t want to hurt you,” you already knew eventually you would.
But I stayed anyway.
Cause your laugh still quiets rooms in my head that medication never could. And your voice? That shit feels like home cooked food after months of surviving on gas station meals and firewood.
You don’t even realize how many nights I sat parked outside my house just staring at the steering wheel trying to believe in if I should keep fighting for people that only love me when it’s convenient.
Trying to decide if loyalty is strength or just another word for fear of leaving.
And still — if you called tonight, I’d answer before the second ringin.
That’s the kind of man I am. Dangerously good to people who aren’t sure what to do with me.
Eventually you’ll see I dotted my I’s and crossed my T’s, weighed every reason to stay and every reason to flee.
And if you still don’t believe me, I’d chop off my own leg just so you could stand taller beside me and finally see I’ve been trying to become the man you need me to be.
But maybe that’s the problem.
Maybe I spent so much time trying to become what everybody wanted to see that I forgot to ask who the fuck I was supposed to be for me.
You see?
Clouds
I think that's why I love the clouds.
Not because they're pretty, not because they drift, not because they paint sunsets and give photographers a gift.
No.
I love them because they witness.
Because they sit above existence, silent in persistence, keeping secrets at a distance.
Imagine the stories they could tell.
The wedding bells. The prison cells. The heaven found. The private hells.
The last goodbye. The newborn cry. The hopeful truth. The practiced lie.
They watched soldiers ship away, watched mothers kneel and pray, watched lovers swear forever then slowly drift away.
They've seen fists thrown, hearts broken, last words spoken, promises choking on the smoke of bridges burning.
Imagine the learning.
Clouds watched kings become beggars, watched beggars become kings. Watched kids become parents, watched parents become memories.
They've floated over battlefields where young men traded futures for medals and memorials.
They've hovered over hospital rooms, watching monitors beep, watching families bargain with God, watching grown men weep.
And they never speak.
Not a whisper. Not a peep.
Just drifting. Lifting. Shifting.
As if every story weighs nothing.
Meanwhile, I'm down here struggling to carry one.
But the clouds?
They carry everyone.
Every first kiss beneath a streetlight. Every drunk text sent at midnight. Every tear shed in silence. Every act of love. Every act of violence.
Imagine if clouds could testify.
Could describe every why.
Why she left. Why he stayed. Why some debts get paid while others follow us into the grave.
Imagine hearing them explain how joy and pain ride the same train through sunshine and rain.
How a man can smile while feeling broken. How a heart can scream without a word being spoken.
The clouds know.
They watched me too.
They watched me stumble. Watched me fumble. Watched my world crumble then somehow survive the rumble.
They watched me lose people. Lose faith. Lose direction.
They watched me build myself back one imperfect brick at a time, one scar, one lesson, one confession.
So when I stare at the sky, it's not because I'm trying to escape.
It's because I'm fascinated by what stays.
The clouds have seen every version of us.
The fearless. The furious. The faithful. The faithless.
Yet every morning they return without judgment.
Just floating.
Just knowing.
Just growing.
A gallery of untold stories rolling across the horizon.
And maybe that's why I love the clouds.
Because in a world where everyone is desperate to be heard, the clouds have heard everything
and still choose grace over gossip, wonder over warning, silence over shame.
Imagine the stories they could tell.
Imagine the stories they'll keep.
i love experiences. let's go somewhere, let's do something
e.
“Alchemy is the union of the Sun and the Moon.”
- Brian Cotnoir, Practical Alchemy
[Art: Diana Awaking Apollo by Carl Bertling, 1910]
