historical fiction writers scare me because they’ll casually say things like "this takes place in 1741" and then proceed to write with the confidence of someone who’s lived there. how. did u time travel.
dirt enthusiast
trying on a metaphor

tannertan36
Show & Tell

Andulka
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Product Placement
almost home
NASA
Not today Justin
occasionally subtle
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Three Goblin Art
styofa doing anything
One Nice Bug Per Day
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Janaina Medeiros

JVL
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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@angel-status
historical fiction writers scare me because they’ll casually say things like "this takes place in 1741" and then proceed to write with the confidence of someone who’s lived there. how. did u time travel.
Naomi Campbell for Italian Vogue, 1989
Naomi Campbell for Italian Vogue, 1989
12.14.23
I love this account because I can just scream into the abyss and it gets sucked into an even bigger abyss where no one will ever read it
I promise I’m not stupid… please… PLEASE IM A STARRRR!!!!!!!
Ohhhh okay you hate me got it
I wanna be in your head for one day. I want to see what you must think about me. I crave the brutal reality that I have created by ever entering this entanglement with you.
Do you think of me the same way I think of you? I know the answer. I just need to hear it.
This is what I wanted, right? I never wanted your everything. Just the validation it would bring me to know.
I never wanted vulnerability the way I wanted it right now. I know it’s my karma. From never being available — to wishing you could just be honest with me for 10 mins.
It’s all I need. 10mins of unfiltered, raw honesty that could wretch me away from my own delusions of ever thinking, that I could possibly be more than idea in your head.
I worry I’ve made things all too real. With my own vulnerability, my terrible lies, the shyer I got when it came to letting you see me. Literally.
Some part of me knows how this ends. The smarter part of me. Then, there’s this sweeter part of me. Who wishes.
I don’t pray. I’m not religious anymore.
Yet I pray He would reveal where your heart lies.
Am I the only one? I doubt it. But I’ve gone insane, and I don’t want to know.
We have so much learning to do.
'Home under Moonlight' by Frederick Stanley Haines , (1879 - 1960).
1974 The Legend of Sleepy Hollow postage stamps and postcard
Guys I’m gonna get railed later wish me luck