Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) • dir. Hayao Miyazaki
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@adriennerivera
Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) • dir. Hayao Miyazaki
★ 【Say HANa】 「 Lucy 🌙 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on instagram
I fell in love with a feeling
And your funny faces
You were beautiful and broken
In all the right places
I am sorry
That I can’t stay
And I am sorry
We’re light years away
Everything is clear in the rearview mirror
Fun fact: today (Valentine's Day) is my birthday 💕
Marcel Duchamp, Portrait of Chess Players, 1911.
“Melancholia : it’s a habitual feeling of our imperfection… It can also be a product of ideas about a certain perfection that is not found either in ourselves or in others, in the objects of our pleasure or in nature.”
Definition of the melancholia by Diderot in the Encyclopédie
Painting : Automat by Edward Hopper in 1927
i just found out merriam webster has a time traveler feature that tells you some of the words that were “born” the same year as you. it’s pretty neat yall should do this
new tag yourself game: pick 3 words “born” in ur year that describe u. im geocaching, dark web and abandonware
bootylicious, pole dancing, and flesh-eating disease :-)
yoshitaka amano + final fantasy xiv
4 June 2019, 05:05
it’s been a long fucking time since i’ve been here. honestly, the only reason why i’m here now is because i finally have time to do shit on the computer i built like 3 years ago lol oops. but real talk, i’m here to update whoever still reads my shit or better yet, myself: an avid collector of my own thoughts through written blog posts, journal entries, photos, etc.
so i logged onto facebook from my computer for the first time in probably years. i finally get to see my messages without downloading that stupid facebook messenger app. lo and behold, i still had conversations saved from like 8+ years ago from high school. my shit was cluttered, so naturally, i went through them.
i came across conversations i had with various ex-boyfriends. i don’t know why i did it, but i read them. i read all the cute and flirtatious beginnings. all the meaningful and empty “i love you”s. all the tireless toxicity. all the times i let him degrade me as a human being. all the phrases that shattered my soul. top-to-bottom. all of them. everything. over and over and over again.
but nothing. it just felt like i read some really sad news articles. i tried channeling all the way to the girl i was 8 years ago to help me figure out why the hell i never deleted these conversations. but i couldn’t get to her. and it occurred to me: i’m still that girl, just evolved.
the past feels like light years away. everything toxic that enveloped my being weighed so heavy on my shoulders for the longest time. now it feels like it slowly dissolved right off my back. i figured i kept those conversations (all ending in goodbyes) so that one day, i could prove to these boys how wrong they were about me. but i feel nothing for any of them anymore. with everything i went through, the only thing i proved to anyone was that i’m one of the toughest people i know and no one gets credit for it except for me.
i guess what i’m getting at is that i’ve come a long way. and if you’ve been following me and reading the tons of #personal posts i’ve written over the years, the tone drastically changed. however, i still struggle pretty hard with depression and panic disorder but from the diagnosis 5 years ago to now, i’ve done an amazing job. i’m so proud of me.
p.s. i deleted those conversations. with my fiance as my witness. (yup i’m marrying the infamous donut nerd boi!!!)
SOMEONE PLS BURRY ME
31 August 2017, 23:02
there you go again, adrienne, always feeling sorry for yourself
Jerry Lewis pantomiming in The Errand Boy (1961)
probably one of my favorite scenes in all of cinema history
i stumbled across this movie after watching a couple of jerry lewis movies beforehand and this scene sold me on this glorious man being my favorite actor of golden age Hollywood (before i saw the family guy version)
please everyone watch this
it's wonderful and jerry lewis was wonderful, r.i.p.