styofa doing anything
Jules of Nature
Sweet Seals For You, Always
we're not kids anymore.

JBB: An Artblog!
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
đŞź
Misplaced Lens Cap
taylor price
almost home
Game of Thrones Daily

pixel skylines
NASA

JVL
dirt enthusiast

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
trying on a metaphor
h
todays bird

blake kathryn

seen from United States
seen from Mexico

seen from Germany

seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Pakistan

seen from United States

seen from Honduras
seen from Pakistan
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Chile

seen from Malaysia
seen from Sri Lanka
seen from Finland
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
@brooksndone
straight vampires are so unrealistic
imagine being heterosexual for all eternity.. pass
@thatbabydollbitchâs archive
forgotten words ~ fading memories
âListenâare you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?â â Mary Oliver
photographer: milena perkins | image source
E.E. Cummings, Complete Poems, 1904-1962
the worst part about studying languages is knowing that you will never be nearly as good at it as a literal baby
the sexual tension between me and the alternate reality i daydream about
Castleton, Peak District
ive probably said this before but i LOVE the twilight zone episodes with no quantifiable moral at the end, they just wrap up like âwouldnt it be fucked up if that happened?â
everyone saying black mirror NO the whole point of black mirror is that itâs rife with unwanted morals! no! i donât want to be told how technology is making us distant and how helicopter parenting makes kids hate you i want âwhat if astronauts found their own dead bodies on a random planet and had a breakdown for a full episode then realized theyâre dead for real and then forget and do it all again forever, wouldnât that be fucked? iâm rod serlingâ
There truly is no better euphoria than eating shitty beef jerky and pretending you're on a long journey and rationing what little food you have left that will last in the wild. You look out over the horizon at a mossy stone that is much too stiff to serve as a bed, and plant yourself directly upon its welcoming hearth. You gulp down mouthfulls of stolen rum faster than you should. You swig the last dregs of clean water as carefully as you would a fine whiskey. Your preferred campfire shines silver through the leaves above you, and for a momentâ no more than a momentâ you could believe the stars had abandoned their inky sheets to lie aside you on the forest carpet. Clouds rolling by shatter the illusion, and your stars have been put back into their beds, and it's only you again; only you, a rock, and your shitty beef jerky.
rainy day âď¸
Oh to live in a little cottage on top of a mountain beside the sea