Death does not come all at once; it leaves many of us in the sunlight behind, to grapple with a loss that comes seemingly out of order. Our own rhythms distract us from the procession.
—Caitlin Starling, The Starving Saints

Love Begins
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
ojovivo
$LAYYYTER
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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
todays bird
Claire Keane
KIROKAZE

JVL
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almost home
wallacepolsom
YOU ARE THE REASON
hello vonnie

#extradirty

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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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@fromfairest
Death does not come all at once; it leaves many of us in the sunlight behind, to grapple with a loss that comes seemingly out of order. Our own rhythms distract us from the procession.
—Caitlin Starling, The Starving Saints
Mary Oliver, from Upstream: Selected Essays
Fantascope 'Tylostoma' Directed By: Yoshitaka Amano (2006)
(via 2001hz)
© Wang Wei
Dongni Hou on Instagram
Fangophilia Taro: Full Arm Armor (2013)
A beautifully blued, silvered, and gilt elbow Gauntlet,
Length: 21.5 in/54.6 cm
Germany, late 16th century, housed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Oscar Wilde, from an essay featured in The Decay of Lying and Other Essays
"Even if the average man lives in a kind of obliviousness of anxiety, it is because he has erected a massive wall of repressions to hide the problem of life and death. His anality may protect him, but all through history it is the 'normal, average men' who, like locusts, have laid waste to the world in order to forget themselves."
The Denial of Death - Ernest Becker
“The mind was so thin, barely a spiderweb, with all its fine thoughts, aspirations, and beliefs in its own importance. Watch how easily it unravels, evaporates under the first lick of pain.”
— White Oleander, Janet Fitch (via deformititties)
— josé olivarez // natalie diaz
Moonlight is sculpture; sunlight is painting.
Hawthorne, American Note-Books, 1838
Though everything is so fragile. I feel so lost. I live off a secret that glows in luminous rays that would darken me if I didn't cover them with a heavy cloak of false certainties. May the God help me: I am without a guide and it is dark once again.
Clarice Lispector, Água Viva
i love this
Nature no soothing mother, Nature is annihilation brooding over.
—Susan Howe, My Emily Dickinson