thoughts from an afterthought

hey. Baby tumblr-er. Still figuring this shit out. 26.Tx

[jellynut]

Why did this idea occur? No idea.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[lesbiantiana]

[theliteraryjournals]

You’ve been brave so long…You just gotta go on being brave.

Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind (via theliteraryjournals)

[ink-pedia]

tattooist_flower

[mymodernmet]

[queeranne]

#KeepKissing

[crushedlittlelesbian]

nice

[cartooncoyote]

Eating fruit is okay

[weedsandwich-deactivated2018042]

source?

[cartooncoyote]

this

[oneseriouslycoolguy]

That banana is holding her hostage

[vinesnow]

[yourzombiepinup-deactivated2016]

I thought this video died

[unicornriiarchive]

I QUOTE THIS CONSTANTLY AND NO ONE FUCKING KNOWS ABOUT THIS

[marzipanandminutiae]

@columbusdiary

[face--the--strange]

If gender is innate, if girls and boys are just naturally different and naturally like different things, want different things, show different behaviors, why do we have to put so much effort, so much work into separating them? If gender was innate it wouldn't have to be indoctrinated into anyone. Everyone would naturally pick what they want to pick, and every girl would pick the same thing while every boy would pick the opposite. We would never have to tell any little girl or little boy anywhere, “this is not for you, it’s for boys/girls”.

Children Don’t Have Gender Identity - Blibli Blogging (via face–the–strange)

[archatlas]

What is your favorite piece of architecture from the first half of the 20th century? (I'm studying historical preservation and that's my favorite era)

I can’t choose only one, here are some of my favorites:

Casa Milà Antoni Gaudí

Villa Savoye Le Corbusier

Barcelona Pavilion Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

Church of Saint Francis of Assisi Oscar Niemeyer

Fallingwater Frank Lloyd Wright

Villa Mairea Alvar Aalto

[yourhandwrittenletter]

Everything about us was electric. From the moment we met, shy eyes peeking past the people that separated us, it was like falling through the sky. Topsy turvy and clutching hands and flipping stomachs. We touched each other like we might never have another night, tip toeing around words like forever. We only understood this moment, that moment. Here, now. But we called it love, and those moments never drifted too far.      Electric. Late nights of too much vodka and other lonely souls that smoked with us in silence and skin that screamed for more and more and more. But mouths that screamed, too. At one another because that boy looked at me for too long, and you forgot your credit card again, and commitment was a word you never understood. Screaming for more and more and more. More than this and that and here and now. Blood rushing from our hearts to our heads as we fell and fell and fell through the sky. Love, we called it. As if a four letter word could keep us from crashing.      But it took me a long time to realize that love isn’t falling. Or crashing. Or electric. It isn’t uncertainty and pain and being so scared you forget why you jumped in the first place. No, love isn’t falling at all; it's landing.

A girl who spent too much time in the sky (via yourhandwrittenletter)

[letsboldlygomotherfuckers]

swimming pools are so weird man we dig holes in the ground and fill them with liquid we cant breathe in and then spend an hour or so at a time trying not to drown in it

[embo390]

But I love doing that

[archatlas]

Tokyo Under the Magnifying Glass 

With the series glassporthole photographer Takashi Kitajima has created composite images that give the illusion of capturing a fragment of the landscape on a magnifying glass. Like the porthole in a ship, we are only allowed to see in detail a tiny fragment of the world outside. 

Takashi Kitajima was born in Saitama, Japan. He found his own photography method,  with continuous effort and overcoming many challenges, by emphasizing the glow of artificial light on night scenes of Tokyo. We previously featured his intriguing work here.

[maxsfreckles]

“Who’s your LGBT hero?”

[as-warm-as-choco]

don’t

[archatlas]

Oleg Shuplyak