the conceptual appeal of the tower to me is that it's a way of burying yourself alive by going upwards
who up building a monument to their own destruction and mistaking it for progress 💯
Monterey Bay Aquarium
ojovivo
KIROKAZE
almost home
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Misplaced Lens Cap

titsay

izzy's playlists!
Cosmic Funnies
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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Mike Driver
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

★
sheepfilms

⁂

Kaledo Art

Janaina Medeiros
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@fly-high-icarus
the conceptual appeal of the tower to me is that it's a way of burying yourself alive by going upwards
who up building a monument to their own destruction and mistaking it for progress 💯
Love from loss WIP 2024
So you remember those pockets I wove into this fabric couple months ago? Back then I was charmed by the idea that I could hide a small item in there - I could give this fabric a secret that is part of its structure and impossible to get out unless you break the fabric itself.
So I wrote this little poem, a gentle call out for being curious enough to break my beautiful hand woven linen fabric and messaged my lovely sculptor/jewel smith friend.
Yesterday we were finally able to realize my vision! These tiny bronze plaques are made to hide in the fabric - peeking through shiny enough that you see that there is something there to tease at your imagination but - impossible to get out or read without breaking it.
salvage by Hedgie Choi
For old times sake is actually such a heartbreaking and beautiful sentiment. Like, let’s do it for the love that used to be here. It is reason enough.
how do i break the cycle
prepare yourself for the absolutely insufferable lack of satisfaction found in forgiveness
Maybe it’s better to have the terrible times first. I don’t know. Maybe then, you can have, if you live, a better life, a real life, because you had to fight so hard to get it away⸺you know?⸺from the mad dog who held it in his teeth. But then your life has all those tooth marks, too, all those tatters and all that blood.
James Baldwin This morning, this evening, so soon
whatever didn't kill me turned me into this
when you've got natural camouflage and a mean streak
the inescapable structure of tragedy, the lines of causality
matthew stover, star wars episode III: revenge of the sith novelization / prophetic perfect tense / louise glück, the triumph of achilles / hadestown, “road to hell” / sunnyscenegenerator / joanna newsom, “waltz of the 101st lightborne”
Going insane about kicked dog with rabies type characters
On a more serious note though perhaps I'm obsessed with this because I want more sympathy for characters who externalize their problems. Fuck being a perfect victim fuck being a decent one, something horrible was done to you and it was never recognized and you will never ever get back the person you were before, you had everything taken from you and now all you're left with is anger and sharp things and you know what. You should be able to bite people about it
for request, may I ask for something with the theme "devotion as violence?"
@achillics, vulnerability
Joan Tierney (x)
Richard Siken, Wishbone
Ada Limón, The Good Fight
José Olivarez, I WAKE IN A FIELD OF WOLVES WITH THE MOON
Lady Gaga, Judas
@bipeds (x)
Tom Lehrer, The Masochism Tango
Yves Olade, When Rome Falls
Florence + The Machine, Kiss With a Fist
Schuyler Peck, Horoscope for the Heartbroken
Venetta Octavia, I Set It in Stone
@heavensghost, Dead Girls Don’t Lie
Richard Siken, Snow and Dirty Rain
Dead Girl Walking, from Heathers: The Musical
Terrence Hayes, American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin
Richard Siken, Primer for the Small Weird Loves
Margaret Atwood, We are hard
@roach-works // Melissa Broder, "Problem Area" // Mary Oliver, "The Return" // @annavonsyfert // Koyoharu Gotouge, Demon Slayer // Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // Tennessee Williams, Notebooks
“ WHAT I AM NOT
My brother and I used to play a game. I’d point to a chair. “THIS IS NOT A CHAIR,” I’d say. Bird would point to the table. “THIS IS NOT A TABLE.” “THIS IS NOT A WALL,” I’d say. “THAT IS NOT A CEILING.” We’d go on like that. “IT IS NOT RAINING OUT.” “MY SHOE IS NOT UNTIED!” Bird would yell. I’d point to my elbow. “THIS IS NOT A SCRAPE.” Bird would lift his knee. “THIS IS ALSO NOT A SCRAPE!” “THAT IS NOT A KETTLE!” “NOT A CUP!” “NOT A SPOON!” “NOT DIRTY DISHES!” We denied whole rooms, years, weathers. Once, at the peak of our shouting, Bird took a deep breath. At the top of his lungs, he shrieked: “I! HAVE NOT! BEEN! UNHAPPY! MY WHOLE! LIFE!” “But you’re only seven,” I said.”
— Nicole Krauss, The History Of Love
i was almost something good
THE PRECARIOUS WORLD
How *not* to lose? It is impossible not to. The world is balanced on the edge of a knife. It’s a game of frayed nerves. You’re pushed on by numbers and punitive measures: pain, rejection, and unpaid bills. You can either play or you can crawl under a boat and waste away -- turn into salt or a flock of seagulls. Your enemies would *love* that. Or you can fight. The only way to load the dice is to keep on fighting.
“The Dungeon”
Olivier Schrauwen
Mome v14