instagram.com/bonjoursimonleclerc
hello vonnie

izzy's playlists!

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
we're not kids anymore.
styofa doing anything
Cosmic Funnies
Cosimo Galluzzi
Keni
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AnasAbdin
will byers stan first human second
One Nice Bug Per Day
Sweet Seals For You, Always
art blog(derogatory)
Sade Olutola

Discoholic 🪩
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d e v o n
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
seen from Mozambique

seen from India

seen from Malaysia

seen from Iraq
seen from Jamaica
seen from South Korea
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
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Singapore

seen from Japan
@imnotaplaceforcowards
instagram.com/bonjoursimonleclerc
artists please divorce yourself from the internet attention machine and focus on becoming weirder and having more fun instead of creating more engagement for corporate social media giants
“Always, over and over, these days and nights will come, the anxiety, the aversion, the doubt. And I will still live, and I will still love life.”
— Hermann Hesse, from Wandering; “Rainy Weather”
omg u gotta read the whole thing:
I will have baked fish, and I will drink Nostrano out of a thick glass, and draw slowly on long cigars, and spit into the glowing fireplace, think about my mother, and try to press a few drops of sweetness out of my anxiety and sorrow. Then I will lie down in the inadequate bed beside the thin wall, listen to wind and rain, struggle with the beating of my heart, wish for death, fear death, call out to God. Until it is all over, until doubt wears itself out, until something like sleep and consolation beckons to me. So it was when I was twenty years old, so it is today, and so it will go on, until it ends. Always, over and over, I will have to pay for my loved and lovely life with days like these. Always, over and over, these days and nights will come, the anxiety, the aversion, the doubt. And I will still live, and I will still love life.
Ich werde mir Fische backen lassen, und werde den Nostrano aus dickem Glase trinken, und die langen Zigarren dazu qualmen, und ins Kaminfeuer spucken an meine Mutter denken, und aus meine Angst und Traurigkeit einen Tropfen Süßigkeit zu pressen suchen. Dann werde ich im schlechten Bett an dünner Wand liegen, Wind und Regen hören, mit dem Herzklopfen kämpfen, den Tod wünschen, den Tod fürchten, Gott anrufen. Bis es vorüber ist, bis die Verzweiflung müde wird, bis wieder etwas wie Schlaf und Trost mir winkt. So war es, als ich zwanzigjährig war, so ist es heute, so wird es weiter sein, bis es ein Ende hat. Immer wieder werde ich mein liebes, schönes Leben mit diesen Tagen bezahlen müssen. Immer wieder werden diese Tage und Nächte kommen, die Angst, der Ekel, die Verzweiflung. Und doch werde ich leben, und doch werde ich das Leben lieben.
just want to tie up a cute boy, straddle his lap, and grind my hips until he’s a total, blissed out mess. sensitive to my every single touch and caress.
while i kiss and bite his neck, his lips, his chest, i want his hips bucking uncontrollably. i want him babbling incoherently, unable to properly plead and beg. i want him practically in tears from being just that desperate to cum. and maybe if he’s a good boy, i’ll let him cum in his pants. maybe.
Margaret Atwood, from “He shifts from east to west”, Power Politics
I have one foot in the grave but in a kind of fun flirty way, the way one might slip on a fishnet stocking
“Some of us willingly destroy ourselves when we believe there is nothing to salvage. That which could be saved is left to rot away.”
— Noor Shirazie, Into the Wildfire: Battle Scars
“How talented you have become at abandoning yourself. How dangerously you run from identity, assuming it will be there if you care to return.”
— Noor Shirazie
I would like to not be able to feel my emotions for just one day.
I’m tired of feeling things.