welcome to my blog. please drink some water and unclench your jaw. try to be kind even when its exhausting i swear it will be worth it
occasionally subtle

⁂
NASA
cherry valley forever
Today's Document
Mike Driver

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
we're not kids anymore.
No title available
Xuebing Du
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

JVL
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Claire Keane
will byers stan first human second
styofa doing anything
tumblr dot com

titsay
Monterey Bay Aquarium

PR's Tumblrdome

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@chaotic-persephone
welcome to my blog. please drink some water and unclench your jaw. try to be kind even when its exhausting i swear it will be worth it
being a kid and hearing adults say stuff like "woah 2011 was 4 years ago haha" didn't really convey the fucking horror of a youtube video crossing my recommended labelled "9 years ago" and it's from 2017. that's not true. 9 years ago is 2010 or something. don't lie.
I THINK LOVE IS SOMETHING / THAT HAPPENS TO OTHER PEOPLE - Michael Gray Bulla
No, don't you dare stop rambling. The more you talk, the more I learn about you. The more I learn about you, the larger my database on you grows.
Want to go to the river and I’ll find you pretty rocks? (Flirting)
I keep all the letters you wrote to me in a box under my bed.
It's a box that a pair of vans I bought came in. I wore those vans until the soles were bald and still don't have the heart to throw them away, because I walked so many miles in them with you. We walked everywhere in our little hometown, you gave new meaning to everything that grew gray. The lamp post at the bottom of my driveway will never look the same to me because I still see your silhouette standing in its orange light. My mailbox will always be permeated by a cloud of childlike wonder because of how many times I opened it to find your stylish writing waiting there for me to pour myself over.
In that box, I have every single letter, picture, postcard, and vinyl sticker you ever sent to me. It's your box, it's all I have left of you and that balmy summer we shared. The perfume you rolled over the paper still has its smell and it's like you're in the room with me every time I open the crinkled pages. I love the way you write. And boy oh boy, I love you.
It brings me comfort to sleep over those words. To know that those memories are a foot beneath my dreaming head at any given time. To know those memories are better than any dream I could contrive. You feel like home to me, a piece of myself that I liked a little better and loved a little more than I could ever love myself.
I love you. If you come home, I'll be right here waiting for you.
He’s having a pedicure
‘A spotted flycatcher pair nesting in the palm of a statue’ (by Zsolt Semperger, original post here)
Happy pride to those 5 seconds where Charlie Swan thought Jacob was coming out to him in the most insane way possible
thinking about edvard munch's "The Sun" (1911)
like yeah thats how it feels. thats what it feels like to exist sometimes. he gets it
'things there are no words for, but should be', tatheve simonyan
If your lover lives in Hong Kong and cannot get to Chicago, it will be necessary for you to go to Hong Kong. Perhaps you will spend your life there, and never see Chicago again. And you will, I assure you, as long as space and time divide you from anyone you love, discover a great deal about shipping routes, airlines, earthquake, famine, disease, and war. And you will always know what time it is in Hong Kong, for you love someone who lives there. And love will simply have no choice but to go into battle with space and time and, furthermore, to win.
James Baldwin, Nothing Personal