#extradirty
todays bird
Xuebing Du
Sade Olutola
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Cosmic Funnies
Andulka
Sweet Seals For You, Always
occasionally subtle
dirt enthusiast
roma★
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
trying on a metaphor
⁂
Today's Document
DEAR READER
Misplaced Lens Cap
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Belgium
seen from Philippines
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Iraq
seen from Italy
seen from Sweden
seen from United States
seen from Philippines
seen from Mexico
@driftingdrafts-blog
She hides behind her metaphors, so listen to her lyrics. She leaves coffee stains on the table so someone can see that she was there all along, waiting. She keeps bookmarks in all her unfinished books so she can always continue. She keeps her hands underneath her pillow to keep them from...
Ignite the Night (Taken with Instagram)
Ignite the Night (Taken with Instagram)
Stage Presence
Yeah, I danced alongside my ex. But that's exactly what our relationship was--staged.
Partner
If I could dance to the rhythm of your heartbeat, would you let me?
Sway with me.
Listen to these hushed whispers of mine, for it speaks your name. I will comfort you and keep you close, and you shall be untouchable, save for my sweet caresses. The world will gaze at you for leaving its confines; the world will beg you to come back to its lawlessness. I will stay your heart.
You will move with me, and no one else.
I am dancing to your heartbeat.
think before you act; ask before you assume.
driftingdrafts
Boys can just make you hear what you want to hear; men can make you see what you've always just heard.
driftingdrafts
Reblog if you love to write.
insaneandproudofit:
Whether it be fanfiction, original stories, drabbles, songs, poems, books, or anything that has to do with creative words, then reblog. Let’s gather all the writers of Tumblr together.
A Sinner's Sanctum--Prologue
It spiraled down, and down, and down. Endless.
He felt light as a feather, not because he was at peace with himself, but because he was empty.
Deeper, and deeper, and deeper he went. Hopeless.
Clinging to memories became his existence, and it was often that he escaped there. It was a sinner's sanctum.
He reached up to the mouth of the void, "Save me."
The void smiled back, "This is where you belong."
--
It spiraled down, and down, and down. It was only the beginning.
The Thinker
I was just thinking of you.
I started with the image of your face: how your eyes would look softly at mine, how your lips would curl to a smile even without any spoken word. Or how we would kiss each other and share our breaths, as they merge and fill our lungs. Or how you would touch my nose with yours and we would laugh about our silliness. I love how we're not afraid to be who we are, because the world won't judge us. Because the world is you and me. That is our world, where nothing or no one can break us or tell us what to do. We own the days and nights of our world, no one else--the mornings where your love is my sunshine, and the nights where my thoughts of you are the stars that dot my mind.
I'm still thinking of you.
contentment is natural wealth, luxury is artificial poverty.
Socrates
The Artist and The Fire
It has been quite some time since I've picked up a pen and just started writing. I try to remember the days when I could just spill ink across the paper and craft it into art, but the memories don't come to me. Those days are left as shadows in my mind, vague even with the hardest of efforts to perceive. I try to hear the rhythm my scribblings produced whenever the tip of my pen traversed that barren landscape. Life used to spring forth from my hands. I was a painter, except that I painted with words. I brought meaning to these words, gave them substance and wove them into stories, wove them into grand epics, anything that my mind imagined. I was limitless. I was infinite. It was as if I was a god, for I could move the mountains and tame the seas; I could shake the earth and reach the heavens. But as with life, there is death. The flames of my creative passion sputtered and died. With the passing of time I grew restless. I could bear the silence of my thoughts no longer. Where have I banished them? I did not know where to look, but I sought them anyway. It was foolish, for they were inside me all along, caged and repressed. I let them out and oh, how they rioted! Unrestrained, they set fire to my mind and heart, but instead of putting it out, I let it burn. Soon enough, my passion was set ablaze. I saw the flames rise higher by the second, and I knew that I was alive.
Now I clutch a pen once more.
love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.
Aristotle
56942:
I think it’s kind of funny how when we’re children, our parents passionately encourage us to be unique and different. “Don’t let people change you. Let them accept you for who you are.” Then some years later that statement changes to: “You better get those grades or else you’re not gonna get accepted.”
It’s quite puzzling.
The Rhetoric (Pt. 1)
What would you say if there was nothing left to speak of? Would you whisper the secrets of your heart?
l long to hear the perpetual motion of your every heartbeat, for I would listen. Let them reverberate within this chambered silence --it is my only solace.
You have wrested from me freedom; bound me in chains. Do not take it wrongly though, because I do not desire to be set loose. Take me deeper, confine me. I want you to be selfish! Lock me up and keep me away from the world where I might do harm. Lock me up and keep me all to yourself. I would not want it any other way.
I appreciate you. I believe you. I accept you. I desire you. I adore you. I want you. I need you. I trust you. I love you. You, and you alone.
kiss her under the moonlight, hold her under the stars.
drifting drafts
