Wolken sind tief gelegt
Ich will dich wiederseh'n
Mich tröstet der Nieselregen
Was für ein mieses Leben
Wolken sind tief gelegt
Ich will dich wiederseh'n
Mich tröstet der Nieselregen
Was für ein mieses Leben…
[Haiyti]

oozey mess

JVL
One Nice Bug Per Day
Peter Solarz

ellievsbear
tumblr dot com
todays bird
Misplaced Lens Cap

Product Placement

★
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER
we're not kids anymore.

⁂
No title available
ojovivo
Sade Olutola
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

seen from Bulgaria
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seen from Italy

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from South Korea

seen from Canada
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands

seen from Germany
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from United States

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

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seen from Malaysia
@explosionsinyourmind
Wolken sind tief gelegt
Ich will dich wiederseh'n
Mich tröstet der Nieselregen
Was für ein mieses Leben
Wolken sind tief gelegt
Ich will dich wiederseh'n
Mich tröstet der Nieselregen
Was für ein mieses Leben…
[Haiyti]
There's a rhythm in rush these days Where the lights don't move and the colors don't fade Leaves you empty with nothing but dreams
José González - Stay Alive
hoff’, es geht dir gut, da wo du bist.
Mom, my depression is a shape shifter. One day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear, The next, it’s the bear. [...] Mom says, “Happy is a decision.” But my happy is as hollow as a pin pricked egg. My happy is a high fever that will break. Mom says I am so good at making something out of nothing and then flat-out asks me if I am afraid of dying. No. I am afraid of living. Mom, I am lonely.
Explaining My Depression to My Mother: A Conversation” by Sabrina Benaim
And sooner or later, the truth will come out. - requested by anon
Es wird Zeit die Zeit zu ändern, sonst nimmt sie ihren Lauf
Marathonmann - begegnen/wiedersehen/weitergehen
Für mich warst Du nie Gegner, hab' Dir tausendprozentig vertraut, Dir alles erzählt, vor Dir Intimstes aufgetaut. Hab' Dich, vielleicht zwanghaft, mit 'nem Heiligenschein versehen.
Herbert Grönemeyer - Kein Verlust