Stranger Things
dirt enthusiast
todays bird
YOU ARE THE REASON
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Peter Solarz
Love Begins
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
No title available
#extradirty
@theartofmadeline
roma★
Discoholic 🪩
Origami Around
Misplaced Lens Cap
occasionally subtle
No title available
blake kathryn
Kaledo Art
ojovivo
seen from United States
seen from Lithuania
seen from New Zealand
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Lithuania
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Singapore
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@blackwingedpoet
I've been bothered too much by gluttony and indifference. It is a virus. It is disease like the fire of rebellion, like my heart and me. Not once ever did they nor did they ever break and vanish: The compelling aura of frost all mend, talked into bustling glitter. They wished not to see, not reminders, like photographs. Too beautiful the sparkle, even if in bubbles without space. Burned up lives, the disease of opposition lost. Yet I vow, I commend inspirited fire nonetheless.
What's left of me still loves you — so very tenderly I could cry.
Your eyes have reminded me of the calm, resting sea. They had the truthfulness, vulnerability and beauty a newborn has when gazing at the new, unknown world patiently for the very first time. Whenever I have remberered or seen their spark I remembered as well what it is I hope to find in anothers soul. Like an embodiment of life itself whole worlds have been set ablaze — and that blue kept burning like on the very first of days.
Your eyes have reminded me of the calm, resting sea. They had the truthfulness, vulnerability and beauty a newborn has when gazing at the new, unknown world patiently for the very first time. Whenever I have remberered or seen their spark I remembered as well what it is I hope to find in anothers soul. Like an embodiment of life itself whole worlds have been set ablaze — and that blue kept burning like on the very first of days.
It's one of those days again where I am thinking about how men want to be owned and bound by the order of this society we're living in — even if it's the very cause for their slow, painful decay. They do not desire freedom. They do not desire to unfold their true potential. Men nowadays still revere a cage, fearing chaos and doom behind its cold grasp, not even considering at all the possibilities awaiting them. Whoever wants to walk free, at least in most cases, ends up being in solitude. I, like many, could pour out my heart for, yes, what exactly? Another round at the abandoned shores of the earth, to write a story blurred by the ocean waters? Rather I'd let it take a silent journey. Rather I'd grant it world and paper, and each and every world patient enough to listen with all its heart — like the trees and the wind I cherish. Despite knowing - even feeling -, it's no good to think that way, it sometimes feels as if a neverending curse this kind of life brings. Still, there should be no regret. Still, a life unfolding awaits. Still, that curse shall be embraced — for if not, what else and who? It as well is something else: A reason. A path. My gratitude. Welcome to my journey. Welcome to my life. I will send my words in search for the wind, the trees, waiting to greet another travellers soul.
Bookworm Heavens :D
Winter Wonderland. by Brian Adelberg
Love, with all the flames and thunder possible, shall not only be a kiss to lips, a touch to skin embracing flesh. Like the fiercly blowing winds and the burning howl of thunder it shall be a kiss to one’s beloved soul, one deeply touching embrace of two hearts fusing together more every single time. As the dancing force of nature it shall be kindled under the ignition of hearts bright as the sun, and bracing down to the deepest of roots the tenderest and hottest of water like itself. Wherein there is a tree, all of branches and roots shall be nurtured, to embrace as a whole the tremendous widths of love.
I have always cherished the reticence of words. A thousand letters I could write to you not revealing the name behind.
Books in Hands / Libros entre manos (ilustración de Jen Mazza)
Our so called 'everyday life', may it transform one day, until nothing but life, and simply life, remains. May it be a scent new and fresh unfolding every single moment, a feeling unbeknown, a color never seen.
The Ride
High-Speed photographs of ink dropped into water.
I wish more people would dare being themselves and conjure a storm external rather than to adapt and smother the one within.
I've reached the climax of my very own deprave, and flew straight through the wall which once stood between expectation and myself. You are, I thought, and you are the freedom most never had, just to remember again the oppressing frost of a cage covered in fake glitter melting; for gold doesn't turn death into anything worth defending. Yet, proudly still, here they are standing in a hell created by our very own, neatly misguided race celebrating the poison of corruption like the newest taste in wine. But I saw it coming, saw it crashing down, the moment the mirror of my own illusion broke and perished. The truth of the multitudes for me has faded into nothingness, though its piercing omnipresence still remains. I am falling through the wall, through the mirror of my formerly delusional life. I am awake on a bed of nails; only to find the rest asleep.
