āPart of falling in love with someone is actually falling in love with yourself.ā
ā Leah Raeder
š©µš©µ
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$LAYYYTER
Stranger Things
will byers stan first human second
Claire Keane
noise dept.
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Misplaced Lens Cap

@theartofmadeline
Xuebing Du

if i look back, i am lost
I'd rather be in outer space šø
cherry valley forever
YOU ARE THE REASON

ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation
No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Kiana Khansmith

PR's Tumblrdome
Sade Olutola
seen from United States

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seen from United States
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seen from Netherlands
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@cosmicascade
āPart of falling in love with someone is actually falling in love with yourself.ā
ā Leah Raeder
š©µš©µ
we're never not written with the means to understand whatever waves, whatever lengths, you'd love through I'll know you in every one of them and hold every fragment that is you I'll sit beside your contemplations be the view that settles over your gaze because I never knew I could anchor somewhere steady and safe enough to be a taker for your eyes only for your eyes only for your eyes only
there will always be a calling with your name on it. always. maybe not today. maybe not next week. maybe not while youāre sitting in that uncomfortable posture staring at the your screen, disassociated, mourning the person you used to be at 17, back when the future felt ENORMOUS. but eventually something will tap you on the shoulder and youāll have the epiphany: a book or a person. some city. could be the literal wind before a storm, a random stranger smiling. a patch of saturated light on the floor.
but eventually something will look directly at you, itāll hold you by your face and lock eyes with you and in the most electric way possible scream at you: āYOU NEED TO GET UP. WE ARE NOT DONE YETā
I know a place my soul could land and every time, you'd take my hand where once something was overlooked now seen exactly as it stood how you make space when it's crowded reminds me you deserve what you're owed even without light it's my birthright to have bruised, so I can understand you to survive, so I can look out for you to love, so I can witness every version of you
your knuckles loose in the face of loss you're blue and jazz and all across the room you wished had someone else that looked like me in your pretense your blue eyes flinched, I moved an inch further away but close and closer every look was sadness-tinged but you showed up like you'd thought it over heavy yet free, the way you conquered you've seen me and never wavered I can see your stitched-up injuries scarring but I'm confessing I'm never leaving your trembling lips traced back to me your way home is muscle memory it's all fake bluffing, my reckoning you come running and my beat's returning
Wildness Before Something Sublime Leila Chatti
Some connections feel ancient, as if two souls signed a pact long before they ever met.
catch-22
all this time, i refused to believe you were yet another absolutely horrible, horrendous catch-22. i finally escaped and moved on from the even more horrible situation before you. so i tried to meet you with a more hopeful disposition, more understanding and more willing to rebel against my own pattern of running away once it gets real. but there it is again, the old saying of my life, āit always dies before it beginsā. every fucking time. and i guess i just really, really wanted you to be an exception for a change. almost like i needed it to.
now i see myself as the outsider again, looking in through the windows of a room iāve always been locked out of. i want freedom and a place i can always go back to. but it seems iāve been outside all this time. never sleeping on the rush of life, never blending in with it either. like i was never meant to escape the girl i was, whoād look at someone she cares about like an agonizing exorcism she had to endure, wrenching itself away, only to beguile her once in a while into its peaceful non-existence, then kick her out again. the girl whoās always been a witness to the longing of someone she loves, watching him use the same words she wove for him, for someone else.
Marina Tsvetaeva, from a letter to Boris Pasternak featured in Letters, Summer 1926
ā isa b. this survival hasn't been soft
iām numb ātill iām aching for the sharp pain
if anything happens i love you
Albert Camus, from a letter to MarĆa Casares featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959
For forever it seems
down so bad you donāt tell your best friend anything anymore because at this point itās embarrassing (itās been two years) but itās still real because i still feel it but like bffr when the fuck would these feelings pass?!