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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
we're not kids anymore.
dirt enthusiast
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Product Placement
if i look back, i am lost
Cosimo Galluzzi
Kiana Khansmith
KIROKAZE
shark vs the universe
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izzy's playlists!
Xuebing Du
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Peter Solarz
Three Goblin Art
Mike Driver
wallacepolsom
seen from Australia
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@chroniclrs
doctor will fix me they'll do a scan and find a terrible darkness seated in my stomach and be like "oh my god we're so sorry we were supposed to remove this at birth like everyone else, i don't know how this was missed, we're so sorry you've been living like this your whole life" and it'll fix my brain too and all clouds will part
“Tumblr age verification will not be needed,” tumblr staff states upon confirming every single blog on the site is more than 10 years old.
“If you were literate enough to be posting about Johnlock in 2015 we can kind of just assume you’re good,” staff elaborated even though we did not ask them to.
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my glasses are always dirty but it's fine. i've seen enough.
“Happiness can be defined all kinds of ways, but human beings, consciously or unconsciously, are always pulling for their own version of happiness. Even people who want to die see death as a kind of solace, and view ending their lives as the only way to make it there. Happiness is the base unit of consciousness, our single greatest motivator. Saying “I just want to be happy” trumps any other explanation.”
— Mieko Kawakami, Breasts and Eggs
"On a New Line", Hovhannes Grigoryan (translated by Tathev Simonyan)
𝑀𝑦 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, Frida Kahlo.
My night is like a big heart beating. It's half past three in the morning. My night is moonless. My night has big eyes staring into the grey light filtered through the windows. My night cries and the pillow gets wet and cold. My night is long and long and long and always seems to stretch towards an uncertain end. My night rushes me into your absence. I search for you, I search for your immense body beside me, your breath, your smell. My night answers me: emptiness; my night gives me cold and loneliness. I'm looking for a point of contact: your skin. Where are you? Where are you? I turn in all directions, the damp pillow, my cheek sticks to it, my hair wet against my temples. It's not possible that you're not there.
My head wanders, my thoughts come and go and crash, my body can't understand. My body craves you. My body, this mutilated thing, would like to forget itself for a moment in your warmth, my body begs for a few hours of serenity. My night is a heart of rags. My night knows I'd like to look at you, every curve of your body, recognise your face and caress it. My night chokes me with the lack of you. My night throbs with love, the love I try to contain but which throbs in the half-light, in every fibre of my being. My night would like to call you but it has no voice. Yet it wants to call you and find you and nestle against you for a moment, and forget this time that slaughters. My body can't understand. It needs you as much as I do, maybe we are one after all. My body needs you, many times you've almost healed me.
My night grows hollow until it no longer feels the flesh, and the feeling becomes stronger, sharper, deprived of material substance. My night burns with love. It's four in the morning. My night exhausts me. It knows I miss you and all its darkness isn't enough to hide this evidence. This evidence shines like a blade in the dark. My night would like to have wings that would fly to you, wrap you in your sleep and bring you back to me. In your sleep you would feel me close to you and your arms would embrace me without you waking up.
My night brings no advice. My night thinks of you, dreams awake. My night saddens and loses itself. My night heightens my solitude, all my solitudes. Its silence hears only my inner voices. My night is long and long and long. My night is afraid that the day will never come again, but at the same time my night fears its appearance, because the day is an artificial day, where every hour counts double and cannot really be lived without you. My night wonders if my day doesn't look like my night. Which would explain why I also fear the day.
My night would like to dress me and push me out to go get my man. But my night knows that what we call madness, of any order, sows disorder, is forbidden. My night wonders what is not forbidden. It is not forbidden to become one with it, my night knows this. But it is offended to see flesh become one with it out of desperation. Flesh is not made to marry nothingness. My night loves you with all its depth, and from my depth it also resonates. My night feeds on imaginary echoes. It can do it. Me, I fail.
My night watches me. Its gaze is smooth and sinks into each thing. My night wishes you were here so that it can sink into you with tenderness. My night hopes for you. My body waits for you. My night would like you to rest in the hollow of my shoulder and me to rest in the hollow of yours. My night wishes to be a voyeur of your lust and mine, to see you and to see me trembling with pleasure. My night would like to see our gazes and have our gazes filled with desire. My night would like to hold every spasm in its hands. My night would make itself sweet. My night moans in silence its loneliness at the memory of you. My night is long and long and long. It loses its mind but can't keep your image away from me, can't swallow my desire.
My night is dying of not knowing you there and it kills me. My night searches for you ceaselessly. My body cannot conceive that a few streets or any geography separate us. My body blurs with the pain of not being able to recognise your silhouette or your shadow in the middle of the night. My body would like to kiss you in your sleep. My body would like to sleep and in this darkness, to be woken up because you would kiss it. My night knows no dream more beautiful than this one. My night cries and tears its veils, my night bangs itself against its own silence, but your body is nowhere to be found. I miss you so much. And your words. And your colour.
The day will soon break.
Frida Kahlo, Letter to Diego Rivera (12 September 1939).
[for french: frida kahlo "ma nuit est un coeur qui bat", georgio]
obsessed with the way that gothic horror is about horror but never directly. it’s not horrific because there’s a haunted house and that’s scary, it’s horrific because the monster isn’t a monster, it’s your grief, your loss, your pride, your desire, your fear. the monster skulking in the shadows, the darkness at the edge of the woods, the haunted house that is too broken to be a home—those are manifestations of events that grabbed onto the fabric of time in a fit of abject horror and clamped down so tightly that they couldn’t keep moving forward toward resolution and eventual dissipation like they were supposed to. it’s all about the scared child and the mourning mother and the hunger in your gut and the little emptiness in your chest at the end of the day. those things are all little horrors but you can’t approach them directly to understand them, so gothic horror gives us these little metaphors and says “here play with these for a while and see what you find.” and all of those metaphors need someone to go back to childhood to release them. you have to care, and be curious and clever, and look for a way to heal the hurt. you have to be so achingly human to survive in gothic horror
yippeee..
Context:
dancing at the pink pony club 🎠 prints of my Chappell Roan stuff on the way! (fighting the logistics battle rn bc I want to try to include international too 😭)
Vahan Teryan, "I shall come to you ..."(translated by metamorphesque)
siberian cows photographed by marina fomina, 2019
everyone hate my loquacious swag. its always "why did you make this sentence so long" and "why do you use so many commas and em dashes" and never "how did you come up with run on sentence" or "writing that run on sentence looked fun"
art piece by takuya mitani
Other Words for "Look" + With meanings | List for writers
Many people create lists of synonyms for the word 'said,' but what about the word 'look'? Here are some synonyms that I enjoy using in my writing, along with their meanings for your reference. While all these words relate to 'look,' they each carry distinct meanings and nuances, so I thought it would be helpful to provide meanings for each one.
Gaze - To look steadily and intently, especially in admiration or thought.
Glance - A brief or hurried look.
Peek - A quick and typically secretive look.
Peer - To look with difficulty or concentration.
Scan - To look over quickly but thoroughly.
Observe - To watch carefully and attentively.
Inspect - To look at closely in order to assess condition or quality.
Stare - To look fixedly or vacantly at someone or something.
Glimpse - To see or perceive briefly or partially.
Eye - To look or stare at intently.
Peruse - To read or examine something with great care.
Scrutinize - To examine or inspect closely and thoroughly.
Behold - To see or observe a thing or person, especially a remarkable one.
Witness - To see something happen, typically a significant event.
Spot - To see, notice, or recognize someone or something.
Contemplate - To look thoughtfully for a long time at.
Sight - To suddenly or unexpectedly see something or someone.
Ogle - To stare at in a lecherous manner.
Leer - To look or gaze in an unpleasant, malicious way.
Gawk - To stare openly and stupidly.
Gape - To stare with one's mouth open wide, in amazement.
Squint - To look with eyes partially closed.
Regard - To consider or think of in a specified way.
Admire - To regard with pleasure, wonder, and approval.
Skim - To look through quickly to gain superficial knowledge.
Reconnoiter - To make a military observation of a region.
Flick - To look or move the eyes quickly.
Rake - To look through something rapidly and unsystematically.
Glare - To look angrily or fiercely.
Peep - To look quickly and secretly through an opening.
Focus - To concentrate one's visual effort on.
Discover - To find or realize something not clear before.
Spot-check - To examine something briefly or at random.
Devour - To look over with eager enthusiasm.
Examine - To inspect in detail to determine condition.
Feast one's eyes - To look at something with great enjoyment.
Catch sight of - To suddenly or unexpectedly see.
Clap eyes on - To suddenly see someone or something.
Set eyes on - To look at, especially for the first time.
Take a dekko - Colloquial for taking a look.
Leer at - To look or gaze in a suggestive manner.
Rubberneck - To stare at something in a foolish way.
Make out - To manage to see or read with difficulty.
Lay eyes on - To see or look at.
Pore over - To look at or read something intently.
Ogle at - To look at in a lecherous or predatory way.
Pry - To look or inquire into something in a determined manner.
Dart - To look quickly or furtively.
Drink in - To look at with great enjoyment or fascination.
Bask in - To look at or enjoy something for a period of time.
Calling all aspiring storytellers with hearts full of whimsy! Get ready to sprinkle a touch of enchantment into your scenes with my Scene Wo
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me as a writer
