Dreamcatchers and cornerstones

If i walk long enough , i hope i ll find the horizon ...

[disposablecelestial]

Chills in the wind calling for you

[universallovebot]

love is stored in the kitchen

perhaps the world ends here - joy harjo // the world unseen (2007) - dir. shamim sarif // text post - @jacebeleren​ // daidai’s kitchen - @pakchoys​ // text post - @bicarusgf​ // in the kitchen - helena janecic // letter to donald windham - tennessee williams // お仕事  - @tomokohara​ // summer kitchen - donald hall // perhaps the world ends here - joy harjo

[disposablecelestial]

[disposablecelestial]

Meet me by the beach.

[linkedsoul]

on godhood and liminal spaces

Keep reading

[ofsunrays]

strawberry blonde, mitski. / tallahasseemp3, tumblr. / ishana, gor3fairy on insta. / fleabag, by phoebe waller-bridge. / love freely, E.C. / richard silken. / girl, SYML. / fleabag, phoebe waller-bridge.

[wolfer-aid]

anglerfish 

[usedtobe-writingbyella]

the smell of chip shop liquor.

i smoke and think about how you fuck her.

wonder how often you get so close

to saying my name

you have to bite your tongue

or her lip.

she moans and you think of me.

i know because i feel it.

you breathe like me - full of

bitterness.

handcuffed to your childhood.

clamp your hands down over your ears

when you hear them cry

- and everyone thinks you hate children -

your pockets don’t feel deep

and your jeans will never be thick enough.

they don’t remember like i do.

i would laugh,

but only tears would spill out.

[sunnirainbow]

lil peep - the way i see things

[disposablecelestial]

Light up my life now.

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“For a moment she smiled at me; I thought I saw the ruins covered with wild violets.”

— Nikos Kazantzakis, tr. by Richard Howard, from “The Rock Garden,”

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“I felt the wildest, most painful longing,”

— Denise Levertov, from The Complete Poems of Denise Levertov; “The Trace,”

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“I love you. You’re deliciously uncotemporary; you belong to a mystical past and also to a very remote future. For you, time isn’t money, it’s a precious essence, delicate, full of mystery. Just to breathe with someone like you does me good.”

— Nikos Kazantzakis, tr. by Richard Howard, from “The Rock Garden,”

[disposablecelestial]

Blurry nights

Blurry dreams

Blurry ...

[lets-catch-some-waves]

[sensorys]

[disposablecelestial]

I think I might've inhaled you

I can feel you behind my eyes

You've gotten into my bloodstream

I can feel you flowing in me