The Waste Land

"What are the roots that clutch, What branches grow Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust." - "The Waste Land," T.S. Eliot

[voiceofnature]

[thatsoftwitch-deactivated202203]

[itsinteriorum]

[j-k-i-ng]

“ The Garlic Forest“ by | Albert Dros

[hoardingrecipes]

Teriyaki Wings

[fullcravings]

Peach Cobbler Cheesecake

[sweetoothgirl]

strawberry praline mille-feuille

[adm-kng]

[sweetoothgirl]

Strawberry Cheesecake Toast

[sweetoothgirl]

Strawberry Glazed Sugar Cookies

[simena]

Kirsty Wither

[sickfuture]

[pixandum]

SunDance(ing)

[virtuallyinsane]

nadimoryak

[blackswaneuroparedux]

No one gossips about other people’s secret virtues.

- Bertrand Russell

As my grandmother would say ladies in society have the unique ability to listen to one story and understand another.

[youcanjustignoreme-deactivated2]

You ever look at a mutual and think “You are so out of my league, it isn’t even funny.” Because fucking same.

[daily-deliciousness]

Butter chicken