A sick woman rides in the backseat of a taxi as they desperately search for an Ebola treatment center willing to take her. #Ebola #Liberia #Africa (at Monrovia, Liberia)

roma★

Andulka
hello vonnie
todays bird
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Discoholic 🪩
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Game of Thrones Daily
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
dirt enthusiast
trying on a metaphor
we're not kids anymore.
h
DEAR READER
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
RMH
Jules of Nature
d e v o n
Three Goblin Art

⁂

seen from China

seen from Germany
seen from Australia

seen from Sri Lanka

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany

seen from Singapore

seen from Türkiye

seen from Singapore

seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
@alishahipp
A sick woman rides in the backseat of a taxi as they desperately search for an Ebola treatment center willing to take her. #Ebola #Liberia #Africa (at Monrovia, Liberia)
Fear of Solitude
When I'm alone, I think. I revisit the times that we had.
It starts out with happy memories but I hate the ending.
It always ends the same, with guilt and tears.
I visualize your face, and attempt to remember the sound of your voice.
But it's difficult, because it's been so long since I've heard it.
It hurts to know that when you left us, you were alone.
Alone in your own prison, your mind.
The guilt is unbearable, to know that I wasn't strong enough;
to be there, or to keep a promise.
I couldn't take what they turned you into.
An empty shell, of a once so energetic beautiful human.
They drained you of life. They killed you quicker.
And they did it because it was easier on them.
When I was four, I spun around in circles in between your chair and his.
I stopped at his, I told him that I loved him more.
But, I was just talking to talk.
That's just what kids do.
I declared that I loved you too, but him just a bit more.
I felt bad about it, even though I didn't know why.
I could tell I made you sad.
So I made you both a promise that day.
I told you that when you got really old,
that i'd never let them take you away,
Put you in that place.
I said i'd take care of you.
He passed long before you, in 1996.
Three days after my 6th birthday,
My first encounter with death,
I thought he'd comeback, but he didn't.
I looked for him in my dreams, in nature, in the birds that he loved so well.
He never came back.
But, you soothed me
by filling my misunderstood void, with love and companionship.
You were my new favorite, and it stayed.
Rummy cube, buttered turkey sandwiches, Sunny Slope.
All of which were our routine.
You told me that you aren't supposed to wear underwear to bed, because thats the only time of the day that it get's to air out.
And that a lady never goes to town without putting her lipstick on. So you would let me put on your classy peachy pink lipstick before going to town.
I remember the way that it felt when you'd wash my hair for me in the back kitchen sink, and how i'd beg you to use the blue shampoo. But you'd say I wasn't old enough yet.
I'd hide when I would see my mother's car pull in, Her uncanny guilt trips were always just strong enough to get me out from underneath the table and leave with her.
But every time I left, I'd peer back at your kitchen window, knowing that you would inevitably be standing there, sadly watching us leave, and you would be alone again.
This image stays burnt in my mind.
You grew older, as did I.
But mine was obvious, I grew taller and more feminine.
While yours seemed to come from nowhere.
Only seen through slight differences.
Like your macaroni, the time you used Orange Juice instead of milk.
But I ate it anyways. Because it was the right thing to do.
You started having hallucinations, time confusions,
and forgetting the things you did daily for the last 30 years, like how to play rummy cube,
you started playing out of turn, and soon you didn't play at all.
I was a teenager and I didn't see the severity.
I thought your mishaps were amusing at first.
I was easily flustered with the repetition of things.
Not as patient as I should've been.
I was unsure of how to handle it anymore.
I was too concerned with myself and fitting in at a new school.
I stepped away from you when you needed me the most.
I wasn't aware of what i'd soon regret.
The time came and they took you.
They put you in that forbidden place.
They hollowed you, taking all that was left,
with the prescribed pills and sedatives to keep your mind at ease.
Because It made their jobs easier.
Leaving you unaware, confused and afraid.
You grew frail, and emotionless.
Deaf and blind because of their lack of concern,
Theft of your hearing aides and glasses.
You no longer recognized me.
Only 15, I couldn't protect you.
-A.F. H
As time goes on and the horrors pile up, the mind seems to secrete a sort of self-protecting ignorance which needs a harder and harder shock to pierce it, just as the body will become immunized to a drug and require bigger and bigger doses.
George Orwell (via hollowpublishing)
Nothing New(s)
I read the news yesterday,
nothing much has changed.
Just the names, and dates.
The usual Obamacare, Syria, and Iran.
10,000 dead in the Philippines, 2 million affected.
Don't sweat it though, humans weren't to blame.
So It's hardly news. Remember Japan 2011?
how much have we evolved?
Miley Cyrus has a new hair do, and a mighty daring outfit.
Making headlines everywhere, could it be drugs? a daddy complex?
We've seen it before, Lauper, Madonna, and Gaga.
How much have we evolved?
I read the news today.
Everything repeats,
besides the date in the corner.
Obamacare, Syria, Iran, and Miley Cyrus.
The Typhoon isn't even making the big headlines.
But Kellie Pickler and Jessica Biel is.
Kellie released a fab new song,
Jess is helping Lance plan his wedding.
Have we evolved?
I Love You Mostly in the Morning
I'm on a window ledge,
A rooftop,
hiding in a hedge.
I see a wiggling toe,
a dangling string,
A fish swimming slow
A beam of light catches my eye,
A candle flame,
An insect quickly flying by.
I see you eat the way you do,
the way you prepare for sleep,
The way you shower too.
I stare at you from afar,
I slow blink, I wink.
I sit atop the bar.
I lurk steadily in the dark,
incredibly stealthy
I hope the dog doesn't bark.
I eat your well groomed plants,
place my tongue in your glass.
and roll on your freshly pressed pants.
I scratch your banisters, door frames and walls.
I am not ashamed,
I lick myself, and vomit hairballs.
I sleep on your pillow, near your head.
I lick your fingers, eyelids and hair.
I lay with you in your bed.
I love you mostly in the morning.
-A.F.H
Photos from my farm in Millersburg, Ohio.
A.F.H.
Smalltown, Ohio
Dear younger Alisha:
I am here today, because I no longer had a use for that place.
I needed much more than Smalltown, Ohio could provide me with. I was sweltering beneath the close minded views. Their eyes studying my every move, as if my whole life was an exhibit. This year will be my fifth year away from that place.
What I've learned is, Columbus may be bigger, but not so much better. I have a severe case of nostalgia, for that clean country air, the breeze, and the plentiful shade of the trees. I miss things I never considered missing.
Those open-ended starry nights. The outdoor world ready and at my doorstep, for my exploration. I miss the space, What it felt like to the lack a “next door” neighbor. My many animals, and even those country smells. Manure, burning leaves, and fall bonfires. I miss my large family and our sense of unity. I miss more things than I ever imagined I could.
Though I have my companion, a few wonderful friends, and my dear Stella cat, I still feel alone in a way. I feel bound and held back from my ideal life. I want those liberties but I want them combined with access to more culture. That place may not exist, but if it does I hope to find it one day. Columbus isn't for me, nor is that other place.
Love,
Alisha(current)
P.S. I wouldn't take anything back, It's nice to learn to appreciate where you are from.
-A.F.H
The Great Goldfish
Mortimer, was his name of sort,
though we called him Mort for short.
He was orange and yellow.
A quick little fellow.
He lived quite a life.
lonely, no kids, no wife.
He ate his only choice of friends,
Was he sad you ask?
Well.. it all depends..
Bred to live and die, all in the blink of an eye.
But not this exceptional golden guy.
For 15 years he swam around
Enjoying anything tasty he found.
He was just a fair fish.
Every child's glorified wish.
He moved with us from state to state,
several tank breaks, but he escaped his fate.
Mort was of the unusual kind.
He liked sweet peas, he was well dined.
A good fish, he even cleaned his own home.
Sucking algae off rocks, and slurping on mystery foam.
Swim bladder was his demise,
it gave him a death disguise.
He'd sink and he'd float,
even occasionally bloat.
When the time came,
he met his inevitable end.
I said, “ Goodbye old friend.”
no fish will ever be the same.
Just A fish you say.
Maybe so, but family in a way.
-A.F.H.
“Home wasn’t a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go.” ― Sarah Dessen
Photos of Cora and Ralph Anderson, of Big Prairie, OH.
My Great Grandparents
A.F.H
County Road 51
More to me,
than an old forgotten house.
Memories held as keepsakes,
slowly becoming faded.
My love for it, as serious as a love ballad.
Now empty. The air is motionless,
Stagnant and warm. The scent,
stale, like defeated mothballs.
The sound of life, like the sun at dusk,
quietly disappearing.
Who are you living there?
You will never be like those you replaced.
-A.F.H