
ellievsbear
One Nice Bug Per Day
YOU ARE THE REASON

titsay

pixel skylines
tumblr dot com

izzy's playlists!
h

blake kathryn

oozey mess
styofa doing anything

Discoholic šŖ©

No title available
noise dept.

ā
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
hello vonnie
art blog(derogatory)
Sweet Seals For You, Always
i don't do bad sauce passes
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Iraq
seen from Germany

seen from France
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from Singapore

seen from Belgium

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
@annasova
It's my 15 year anniversary on Tumblr š„³
!ā
god forbid a woman doesnāt sparkle for an audience. god forbid sheās weird, lazy, a little off putting and not trying to impress anyone
Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "Beauty," featured in What Do We Know: Poems & Prose Poems
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, āThe Brothers Karamazovā
A favorite yet unintentional ritual has become sitting with my iPad, scrolling through years of photos, and often reconnecting with myself - the memories, the feelings, the changes in who I am. It feels deeply, deeply inspiring and comforting. Often I start to get tears in my eyes, observing how far Iāve come, how little credit I give myself, how back and forth I fall in believing in myself. I return to myself again and again no matter how many times it takes. Sometimes I just need quiet moments to myself where I dive in and momentarily feel myself again. Iāve come a long way.
Sometimes my dreams are so vivid, I wake up with a jolt at how clear and real it all felt. Itās usually about something very sad - an element of my grief, and when I wake up it hurts all over again. Sometimes Iām having full conversations where maybe Iām seeking closure or finally voicing what Iāve been too nervous to say before. It does feel good to have these moments and trust that in some universe, I have done what I thought I needed to/said it all. Most of the time it just feels like more heartbreak. Iām moving through it, but wow it hurts.
i love reading a great bookā¦. like why am i gasping and talking to myself rn
at the start of every month everyone reblogs some insane poetry thatās like āaugust has arrived and again I swallow my bones in the burning sunā and every time Iām like damn that makes no sense. but kind of true.
I don't think there's anything better than being in love with all the same interests you had in your teen years...but now having adult money and freedom to be fully immersed in those interests.
I feel the most connected to myself.
I am so happy younger me was so passionate, and it fills me with such warmth and happiness to love all the same things I still love?
I love that I got to grow up when I did. I love the cringey elder emo millennial experience. I love the 2014 tumblr era. I love the Twilight renaissance. I loooooove it all.
I truly am a museum of all the things I have ever loved.
I love art and music. I love fantasy.
I love everything younger me loved.
(love you. hope your day is gentle.)
By Alena Razor ph
Detail at Alexander McQueen Fall Winter 2016 | LFW
Athens, Greece