Sue Zhao
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Today's Document
Mike Driver

No title available
DEAR READER
Xuebing Du
dirt enthusiast
NASA
YOU ARE THE REASON
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
No title available
AnasAbdin
$LAYYYTER

pixel skylines

Love Begins
One Nice Bug Per Day
almost home
Sade Olutola
wallacepolsom

tannertan36
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Panama

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Australia
seen from Brazil

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Romania

seen from Australia
@fanglessvampire
Sue Zhao
Vanessa Cooper
Slipping through my fingers - Meryl Streep (Mamma Mia Movie Soundtrack)
Franz Wright, from his collection God’s Silence
does my little jesters hat piss you off? does it make you want to hurt me?
“Involuntarily, the hands Reach for the cross.”
— Marina Tsvetaeva, from Selected Poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva
I Need Some Sleep // Eels
“And they will go on loving each other whatever happens because you can’t choose who you love; you just have to accept it as destiny,”
— Dacia Maraini, from “Train To Budapest,” originally published c. 2008
“Nights filled with worship, holding each other like a prayer unspoken,”
— Nikita Gill, from “Great Goddesses: Life Lessons from Myths & Monsters,”
WHAT is the point if you are not weird and eccentric and wear clothes that are a bit too big and dumb
“Bien-aimé, tout cela qui fut si grand, si doux, Sera le soir d'amour que nous vivrons, peut-être. Notre aveu, le baiser, le rêve à la fenêtre”
—
Hélène Picard - Inconnu Bien-Aimé
My beloved, all that which has ever been magnificent, has ever been sweet, Will perhaps become the evening of love we will live together. Our confessions, our kiss, us dreaming at the window.
“Why does the heart grieve and refuse to listen to reason? Why does one want to weep bitterly?”
— Anton Chekhov, from Complete Works of Anton Chekhov; “Easter Sunday,”
C. S. Lewis, from “A Grief Observed,” originally published c. 1961
ah yes, i love russian literature. the way it just *clenches fists* gives me a constant midlife crisis over the theorical existence of god and whether or not happiness exists or being a good person is worth it
C. S. Lewis, from “A Grief Observed,” originally published c. 1961