Interested in building a whimsical and peaceful life.
trying on a metaphor
i don't do bad sauce passes
we're not kids anymore.
dirt enthusiast

Discoholic 🪩
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Claire Keane
DEAR READER

Origami Around

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No title available

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
No title available

Kaledo Art
tumblr dot com
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

JVL

Andulka
cherry valley forever
Xuebing Du
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Switzerland
seen from Poland

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Singapore
seen from Brazil
@crumbleduck
Interested in building a whimsical and peaceful life.
In Perpetual Spring
Gardens are also good places to sulk. You pass beds of spiky voodoo lilies and trip over the roots of a sweet gum tree, in search of medieval plants whose leaves, when they drop off turn into birds if they fall on land, and colored carp if they plop into water. Suddenly the archetypal human desire for peace with every other species wells up in you. The lion and the lamb cuddling up. The snake and the snail, kissing. Even the prick of the thistle, queen of the weeds, revives your secret belief in perpetual spring, your faith that for every hurt there is a leaf to cure it.
Amy Gerstler (b. 1956) Bitter Angel: Poems, 1990
In Perpetual Spring
Gardens are also good places to sulk. You pass beds of spiky voodoo lilies and trip over the roots of a sweet gum tree, in search of medieval plants whose leaves, when they drop off turn into birds if they fall on land, and colored carp if they plop into water. Suddenly the archetypal human desire for peace with every other species wells up in you. The lion and the lamb cuddling up. The snake and the snail, kissing. Even the prick of the thistle, queen of the weeds, revives your secret belief in perpetual spring, your faith that for every hurt there is a leaf to cure it.
Amy Gerstler (b. 1956) Bitter Angel: Poems, 1990
crocodile bread 2005-11-06
2005-10-16
Cat Johnston —The God of Hayfever (textiles, epoxy clay, paint, wood, 2024)
I know it's not realistic, but wouldn't it be nice if they all turned into 🍒🍒?
get fucking seen & accepted idiot
“but—” nope! you are loved, you fool. you cannot escape it
actually, caesar was stabbed 60 times. it just looked like 23 because, after the tumblr update,
we fucked up