Paul van Dongen, Crown of Thorns (2) / Crown of Thorns (3) / Crown of Thorns (4) / Crown of Thorns (5)

No title available

JVL
Jules of Nature
Monterey Bay Aquarium
KIROKAZE

if i look back, i am lost
Keni

tannertan36
we're not kids anymore.
Sade Olutola
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
d e v o n
sheepfilms

oozey mess

Janaina Medeiros

⁂
Cosimo Galluzzi
Show & Tell
Game of Thrones Daily

Discoholic 🪩
seen from United States

seen from South Korea

seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Argentina

seen from Australia
seen from Italy

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from Australia
@blutetragen
Paul van Dongen, Crown of Thorns (2) / Crown of Thorns (3) / Crown of Thorns (4) / Crown of Thorns (5)
Paul van Dongen, Crown of Thorns (2) / Crown of Thorns (3) / Crown of Thorns (4) / Crown of Thorns (5)
A joke I was once told goes, I didn’t choose this life, this life chose me. Fuck that. Choose a hell of your own making over the hell that unmakes you. Flower a garden of rage & eat & eat & eat.
— Natalie Wee, from “Wei Ying Tells Me about Resurrection,” Beast at Every Threshold
Ours is not a love song sprouted from redemption, hope or even longing. But it is a love song. Sing it under your breath. Sharpen it every morning.
Guante, “The Spill” (via buttonpoetry)
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
“This evening, I will not cry for my dead I’ll instead launch their names into the sky I’ll tear off the stars one by one And paste in their place the wide-open eyes of the departed. Let their gaze strike this earth Gorged with bodies and sweat And all it hides in its entrails Let these gazes become lightning, new suns and new moons.”
— Jean-Dany Joachim, “This Evening, I Will Not Cry for My Dead,” via Mass Poetry
Erlkönig https://youtu.be/3F8TJ8qarls
“I am not pure and I am still sacred.”
from Pluma Sumac’s essay “A Disgrace Reserved for Prostitutes: Complicity & the Beloved Community” in LIES, a journal of material feminism, no. II
George Shaw (British, b. 1966), Every Brush Stroke is Torn Out of My Body, 2015-16. Enamel on canvas, 178.5 x 198 cm.
—Rosario Castellanos, “The Other” (tr. Magda Bogin)
Marina Tsvetaeva, Poem of the End (Trans. by Paul Schmidt)
toni morrison, sula // stephanie peters, fire // seneca, medea (trans. a.j. boyle) // david mcconochie, medea // peter russell, night the first // stephanie peters, roaring flame // hozier, arsonist’s lullabye // jackson pollock, the flame
Abbas Kiarostami, from “A Wolf Lying in Wait; Poems,” published c. 2015
Madeline Miller, Circe
“i believe in omens / and my own ability to shatter and reform”
— Jill Khoury, from “Sixteen,” published in Diode (via knives-and-poisons)