happy pebble pride
DEAR READER

PR's Tumblrdome
Misplaced Lens Cap
Three Goblin Art
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

@theartofmadeline

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

⁂
Monterey Bay Aquarium

JVL
Keni

oozey mess

pixel skylines
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature
tumblr dot com
No title available
KIROKAZE

Kaledo Art
Sweet Seals For You, Always
seen from Germany

seen from Canada

seen from Singapore

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Canada
seen from Ireland
seen from United States

seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from Belgium

seen from United Kingdom
seen from India
seen from United States

seen from Kuwait
@fr0gg13b413
happy pebble pride
jazz filtering through up the attic
a first date chatters pulling cards with hackles still softly up
the taste of queensland bushfire and rosemary on my tongue
applause sounds before they pick up another vibe
and it filters through the room
another glass of nostalgia, home, destruction
and returning to my book
the smoke settles.
instagram | photos are my own, reblogs fine, do not repost/reuse
I think being pinned onto the clothesline and fluttering in the afternoon breeze while I sun dry would cure me actually
soft cold breeze against my neck as smoke finds its way out of my lungs. cotton wool laws keep a mate waiting for his friend, proving their necessity. engulfed by eden, moving without the sound of myself.
the clock tower stares back. past midnight and neither of us blink. faces pressed into sandstone, shadows cast upwards, off-kilter in the light.
my restless wanderings may never cease, but i am enough to make a moment real.
Tove Ditlevsen, from a poem featured in There Lives a Young Girl in Me Who Will Not Die: Selected Poems
@academia-lucifer
... and so I run away to a forest. a moutain. a national park. and things are okay, for a moment.
for a moment all that exists is the trees around me and the ground I stand on and that bird I can hear in the distance.
for a moment.
we search for blinking lashes
in the dark of your room;
you have diesel for blood
and maybe i do, too.
i know better now than to beg
an Amtrak to stay,
because everyone leaves
—sometimes it’s a cafe,
or a role, or a person,
or a doorway.
i think we’re all just trains,
but not simultaneously,
because i know when i told you
i love you,
you saw railroad tracks
wreathed around my throat
like a plastron necklace.
could you overlook the rest of the world
to stay with me for good?
i asked, ready to miss you like
a passenger, 10 minutes too-late.
you said,
i think i could,
i think i could,
i think i could.
— trains // melancholy galaxies (t.e.t.)
musings on June
1. anne sexton (“the truth the dead know”), 2. anne sexton (“suicide note poem”), 3. mary oliver (“august”), 4. l.m. montgomery (“anne of the island”), 5. morgan parker (“the black saint & the sinner lady & the dead & the truth”), 6. found poems: sylvia plath / peter k. steinberg (“percy key among the narcissi”) artwork by hugo grenville
“Mother of Pearl.” Planthopper Phenax variegata. (x).
I promise you things will get so much better when you start processing people’s behavior as information rather than a verdict on your self-worth. If someone doesn’t text back, suddenly pulls away, whatever it may be, the solution isn’t to put on a tap dance for them and try to regain their approval. It’s not to crash out on them and try to force them to react a certain way. It’s just to take a step back, take a deep breath, and assess what this tells you. What’s this saying about them? What’s this saying about you??
formative years? aren’t they all?
show me a permanent self and i will show you a facade or a corpse