Rabinandini

The cold wind passes through my lungs and all I can think of is death.

[hoezierre]

How to get boop bagde? I'm booping someone with the badge but it is taking me to a hashtag page. Someone boop me! 😿

[ceruleanheaven]

sometimes i have a dream that reveals such a humiliating desire i have that i genuinely lose a bit of respect for myself

[theoptia]

Hermann Hesse, from Reflections

[unusual-suspects]

love you forever mold spore kittenpuppy

[hoezierre]

Horror Academia Textpost #1

You live in your aunt's house, for college. Small claustrophobic room with scratched wallpapers... soft pool of reddish light above the bed where you sleep, study, eat (it's a small room); the red light is slowly maddening. You try to read under candles, but the eyes are straining. Cold is sinking through the skin and hairs on your arms are constantly on edge. There is always a feeling... something right behind your ears. The need to drink black coffee. You sip the hot black nectar, swirl it around your mouth roughened by tar. Then the warmth flows down through you...and you feel...hope. Focus. Focus on the book at hand. A thrifted copy of Carmilla by Fanu. It's 3 at night and you must sleep, yet you read on, wishing for a young girl by you... a friend... alluring, maddening. You dissolve into a dream...pale skin, bony fingers running through your uncombed hair, her bloody lips reaching for your neck, perhaps for a kiss. The red light flickers and you hear a tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sink tap has been broken for weeks. You need to sleep. There is a test tomorrow on The Lighthouse by Woolf. And you want to forget about it. Remember that time when all you wanted was a pastel colour set with 80 colours? How your dad used to shout... deafening.... Tap. Tap. Tap. You get up and shove a cloth in it. The red light guides you. You want to sleep, and you turn the next page. Perpetual discomfort. You read a sentence twice, thrice.... Tightly wrap the blanket around you. A beautiful word, must underline it. Where's the pencil? You find one stuck in the edge of the bed. Did Carmilla really exist? You ponder her beauty, imagine yourself in a gothic castle... The darkness helps hide the reality. You sink further into the bed, sleep slowly hovering above you. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap on the door. Of your room. You are home alone.

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— unknown (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

[septemberkisses]

the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.

[debbie-sketch]

The piano room

[hoezierre]

Oh to be a cat sleeping on a cherry blossom tree in spring

[heartsl0b]

a series of coasters referenced from open directory files

[debbie-sketch]

"Alebrijes en el Acueducto de Querétaro" A lovely commission I enjoyed so much making.

[unusual-suspects]

[neveragioia]

The essential is invisible to the eyes.

[thefinalpaperheart]

Take my quiz -> If you were a horror weird girl, what would happen when you finally snap?

[hoezierre]

Tumblr getting taken down from PlayStore in India... What a sad time.

[lucidloving]

D. Alan Holmes, Enlightenment // Signet Amenti // @cryptonature // Alan Wilsom Watts // Evan M. Cohen, "Oceans" // Nikita Gill // @pauladoodles // Julian Gough, "Minecraft End Poem" // Sleeping At Last—Saturn

[weltenwellen]

Ilya Kaminsky, from “A City Like a Guillotine Shivers on Its Way to the Neck”, Deaf Republic