
Kaledo Art

Janaina Medeiros
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Stranger Things
sheepfilms

No title available
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Show & Tell
Mike Driver
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Xuebing Du

No title available
Misplaced Lens Cap
ojovivo
No title available

JBB: An Artblog!
Sade Olutola
Monterey Bay Aquarium
RMH
Keni

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia

seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from South Africa

seen from Canada
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Russia
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 United States
@honey-thigh
CHANYEOL - EXO
Time falls on us, like rain,
It falls like rain until we drown in it.
tHIS MOTHERFUCKER–HES SUCJ A TEASE
Omfg Baek staph
blue
im crying why did u do that
The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas
From The Wind’s Twelve Quarters: Short Stories by Ursula Le Guin
With a clamor of bells that set the swallows soaring, the Festival of Summer came to the city Omelas, bright-towered by the sea. The rigging of the boats in harbor sparkled with flags. In the streets between houses with red roofs and painted walls, between old moss-grown gardens and under avenues of trees, past great parks and public buildings, processions moved. Some were decorous: old people in long stiff robes of mauve and grey, grave master workmen, quiet, merry women carrying their babies and chatting as they walked. In other streets the music beat faster, a shimmering of gong and tambourine, and the people went dancing, the procession was a dance. Children dodged in and out, their high calls rising like the swallows’ crossing flights, over the music and the singing. All the processions wound towards the north side of the city, where on the great water-meadow called the Green’ Fields boys and girls, naked in the bright air, with mudstained feet and ankles and long, lithe arms, exercised their restive horses before the race. The horses wore no gear at all but a halter without bit. Their manes were braided with streamers of silver, gold, and green. They flared their nostrils and pranced and boasted to one another; they were vastly excited, the horse being the only animal who has adopted our ceremonies as his own. Far off to the north and west the mountains stood up half encircling Omelas on her bay. The air of morning was so clear that the snow still crowning the Eighteen Peaks burned with white-gold fire across the miles of sunlit air, under the dark blue of the sky. There was just enough wind to make the banners that marked the racecourse snap and flutter now and then. In the silence of the broad green meadows one could hear the music winding through the city streets, farther and nearer and ever approaching, a cheerful faint sweetness of the air that from time to time trembled and gathered together and broke out into the great joyous clanging of the bells.
full text below
Keep reading
★ 꽃범의 꼬리| Do not edit.
✻ xiustory // do not edit.
✻ snow in spring // do not edit.
these dorks
© HEART TO HEART | Do not edit.
the color of army to jimin ♡
2016 set itself on fire, but at least we still have Seungri.
There I still gave you all something so im not completely at fault