“and at some point I thought to myself: ‘no person deserves this,’ and I realized that includes even me.”
— Unknown
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ojovivo
Mike Driver
sheepfilms
dirt enthusiast

JBB: An Artblog!

#extradirty

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if i look back, i am lost
Cosmic Funnies
$LAYYYTER
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
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Keni

blake kathryn

Andulka
Today's Document

ellievsbear

Product Placement
Stranger Things
seen from United States
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seen from Uruguay
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seen from Canada
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@heartfukc
“and at some point I thought to myself: ‘no person deserves this,’ and I realized that includes even me.”
— Unknown
Me: -has a very intense praise kink-
Also me: -cannot comprehend compliments-
tearing. tearing. tearing. tearing. you cannot stop. you will not stop. a river runs red. runs redder than red. redder than anything you have ever seen in your life, trails down your hands, his neck, your body. a tussle that never finished. thoughts broken off before they could begin. your teeth keep tearing. keep tearing. keep tearing.
Adonis, from Selected Poems; “Celebrating Childhood” (tr. Khaled Mattawa)
Solastalgia
Noun
[sol-las-stol-juh]
1. A form of homesickness one gets when one is still at home, but the environment is changed.
Origin: Coined by Australian philosopher and researcher Glenn Albrecht of the roots Latin sōlācium (comfort) and Ancient Greek algia (pain).
“Solastalgia is when your endemic sense of place is being violated.” – Glenn Albrecht, philosopher
Give me the throat of your god so i may taste divinity and infect them with the same sickness I've been swallowing down for decades.
The sins of man mirror the sins of god; for if we were made in his image then all our beauty and our flaws originated with him.
So we were all damned from the beginning huh
do you ever just think about how damaged you are? like wow i really am fucked in the head
Rainer Maria Rilke, The Book of Images
@shinx-pd; could i get a hellhound with blood and white feathers dripping from its maw saying “dont come near me or ill hurt you like i hurt them” please? thanks!
I'm really not a very angry person there's just a lot of rage inside me
There's something terrible boiling bubbling under my skin ready to burst out of my chest but I'm a chill guy
“…memory is strange. I cannot remember his face any longer. What I do recall are fragments in time: the crinkling of his eyes against the sunshine or when he smiled, the ghost of his unrestrained laughter … I am left with pieces of remembering though I loved him whole.”
— Cindy Pon, “The Crimson Cloak”
The type of slice of life i like to draw.