The surreal experience of finding your own post on pinterest
Like what do you mean I've breached containment
KIROKAZE
almost home

Origami Around

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dirt enthusiast
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

Janaina Medeiros
styofa doing anything
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Kaledo Art

roma★
hello vonnie
occasionally subtle
Cosimo Galluzzi
NASA
One Nice Bug Per Day
taylor price
Three Goblin Art
d e v o n
Game of Thrones Daily
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@forestdeitysuggestions
The surreal experience of finding your own post on pinterest
Like what do you mean I've breached containment
Into the woods, Doug Eng
i get mean when i’m nervous like a bad dog
Unknown/@papayajuan2019/a hero of our time - mikhail lermontov/poor things (2023)/ @sarakleijn/venetta octavia/ @papayajuan2019/@ https.c0rps3 on instagram/cop car - mitski
stream of life - clarice lispector/unknown/@forestdeitysuggestions
Thug life?
No.
Slug wife.
I long for a place I do not know
I ache for a place I cannot go
black fallow deer seen in the Barycz Valley - Landscape Park in Poland
Ideas are like crops. Sometimes you have to let them lay fallow for the next set to thrive.
Anyways just cuz I saw someone saying some really cold take shit:
Demisexuality is not oversharing and definitely belongs in the lgbt community as part of the asexual spectrum. It doesn’t matter if it’s a “how” sexuality and not a “who” or whatever the fuck you call it because heteroromantic demisexuals aren’t fucking straight in the way society says they “should” be and therefor go through the same fucking shit aces do just with a different flavor. Nobody has any fucking right to gatekeep what microlables work for someone if they’re not rooted in bigotry.
Stay the fuck away from my blog if you think otherwise cuz I’m sick of people saying that microlables are stupid or invalid.
Who the fuck came up with “who vs how” anyways. That doesn’t make any sense.
Also if you’re demi you’re amazing and spectacular.
When they made me they made me soft and sweet to be carried on gentle breezes to my lovers and friends and when they made me they said "you will have to help build the world you can truly live in and you will suffer and grieve but it will only make your love greater" "will I get stronger with the work?" "no but those who love you will heal you and with that you will learn to heal yourself and others so that one day you will see and join the others like you in that gentle breeze"
There’s a person out there who saw you laugh
or hop,
or skip,
or that you showed a little kindness to one day
who fell a little bit in love with you
and honestly that’s very sexy of the world.
The Fears of Forests
When humans began to decipher the language of trees, those pheromones in the air and electrical signals in the dirt, it was mostly warnings and greetings to each other. It was slow conversations that took many years to finish. Almost a decade later humans learned to make these signals themselves and began to talk to the trees.
They asked them about the weather– a highly popular topic– and animals and soil. However, one brave scientist asked: “And what do you fear?”
The trees were quiet for a long moment as if thinking. Trees are slow to talk, and even slower to think. It took almost a year before the tree she asked gave a definite reply: “Ghosts,” it said, “Ghosts.”
Scientists took this as a sophisticated reply and started to ponder the meaning of “ghosts.” Was it a metaphor? Were they mistranslating? Did it mean something else? Did it have a spiritual meaning beyond our comprehension?
But talking to trees is not the same as understanding them. The scientist wondered if trees too scented phantom pheromones in the air of those long past or felt electrical signals from tree stumps that no longer had living roots. She wondered if it’s not just humans that have souls, but if the entire planet was covered by forests you cannot see and haunted by plants that no longer grow.
Wow this slaps. Amazing concept
Plants take time to spread their roots before you see even their first leaves. Just because you cannot see progress does not mean you are not making any.
Draw me out like a fern unfurling and I will tell you of the leaves beneath my skin; that I spend the night planning the paths of my roots and the places that my hungry fingers will know; that I keen into the sky for light and beg the clouds for rain-- and how I believe and I hope and I have to believe that I am more than the crawling ground that I started with-- how even if I am only ivy I've vowed to climb so high the birds will wonder at my leaves. I just want to grow-- is that so much? I furl again in the night.
If you don’t have your own claws, store bought is fine too.
Miss me with that mortal bullshit.
Let’s rest in the shadows of the canopy and talk over tea.