Monterey Bay Aquarium

Origami Around
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
occasionally subtle

Kaledo Art

pixel skylines

tannertan36

ellievsbear
art blog(derogatory)
wallacepolsom
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

izzy's playlists!

oozey mess
Show & Tell

Discoholic 🪩

No title available

Product Placement
Game of Thrones Daily

⁂
No title available
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from Sweden

seen from Mexico

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Thailand
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
@jenniest
DARK Angel, with thine aching lu… To rid the world of penitence: Malicious Angel, who still dost My soul such subtile violence! Because of t
DARK Angel, with thine aching lust To rid the world of penitence: Malicious Angel, who still dost My soul such subtile violence! Because of thee, no thought, no thing, Abides for me undesecrate: Dark Angel, ever on the wing, Who never reachest me too late! When music sounds, then changest thou Its silvery to a sultry fire: Nor will thine envious heart allow Delight untortured by desire. Through thee, the gracious Muses turn, To Furies, O mine Enemy! And all the things of beauty burn With flames of evil ecstasy. Because of thee, the land of dreams Becomes a gathering place of fears: Until tormented slumber seems One vehemence of useless tears. When sunlight glows upon the flowers, Or ripples down the dancing sea: Thou, with thy troop of passionate powers, Beleaguerest, bewilderest, me. Within the breath of autumn woods, Within the winter silences: Thy venomous spirit stirs and broods, O Master of impieties! The ardour of red flame is thine, And thine the steely soul of ice: Thou poisonest the fair design Of nature, with unfair device. Apples of ashes, golden bright; Waters of bitterness, how sweet! O banquet of a foul delight, Prepared by thee, dark Paraclete! Thou art the whisper in the gloom, The hinting tone, the haunting laugh: Thou art the adorner of my tomb, The minstrel of mine epitaph. I fight thee, in the Holy Name! Yet, what thou dost, is what God saith: Tempter! should I escape thy flame, Thou wilt have helped my soul from Death: The second Death, that never dies, That cannot die, when time is dead: Live Death, wherein the lost soul cries, Eternally uncomforted. Dark Angel, with thine aching lust! Of two defeats, of two despairs: Less dread, a change to drifting dust, Than thine eternity of cares. Do what thou wilt, thou shalt not so, Dark Angel! triumph over me: Lonely, unto the Lone I go; Divine, to the Divinity.
In my opinion these are some underrated queer books for Pride month.
it was so insane that they even sent this out in 2018 but you know its like staffs current behavior isnt anything new
they had no evidence then with the blogs they terminated & they have no evidence now either so ig its always been your blog gets deleted for "any reason or none at all" when they dont like you for being black or transfem
shoutout to russian chaos agent bellygangstaboo
Hamza had a large family, including several young nieces and nephews. His brother and sister also suffer from a blood disorder, which makes a healthy diet very important.
In Gaza, food is still incredibly expensive and unstable, as well as medical supplies and housing expenses. When money is withdrawn or transferred, a lot of it is eaten up by fees. If you could help Hamza’s family during this deeply awful time, they’d be forever appreciative.
FUNDRAISER.
Parading his big stupid unmoving chrome body around like a sainted reliquary
i know we’re both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what i’m saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when it’s raining. what i’m saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what i’m saying is that i’m here for you and if the train comes please move.
i wrote this 7 years ago, somehow. every day someone else finds it and whispers to me - oh, i understand this. something always turns in the wash of my stomach: i am so, so glad you feel seen. i wish you had no idea what this post was about.
i wrote this while working in a program for new writers. on wednesdays, two of the teachers would be contractually obligated to read our writing aloud to the group of 300+ teens. i had never read my work in public before. i had something like 6k poems and was panicking about it. none of them are good enough. sometimes the train is howling. it is hard, actually, sometimes, even as an adult.
and then i thought - what is one thing i wish i could tell all of them. each of these 300 kids. what did i need to hear, at 16?
i wanted to tell them about the day you wake up, and the sun feels warm finally. i wanted to tell them about carving a life out of soapstone, your hands turning bloody. i wanted to tell them that sometimes yes - it actually does feel easy. i wanted to tell them about weddings and cookie dough and long road trips. about albums of new music and old friends laughing and the sound of snow falling.
you will learn the pattern of the train. you will learn to close your eyes when you hear the engine rumbling. you will learn to let yourself have the grey days in their lily-soft numbness. sometimes it will feel like life is wet paint, and god has smeared your canvas across a sewer grate. sometimes it will be so boring it isn’t even pronounceable - the tenacious, soundless blankness. survival isn’t just ugly nights and wild mornings. it is also the steady, unimportant moments. it is just driving with your seatbelt on. it is calling a friend on the way home. it is burying your face into the fur of your dog.
when i had finished reading this poem aloud, the auditorium was silent for a solid minute. someone stood up to take a picture of where it had been projected onto a screen, and then three more people followed the action, and then - like a bad internet story, people remembered they were supposed to be clapping. kids came up to me after it - thank you for writing that. i think i hear a train coming.
i would write this differently now, i think, but it has been 7 years. i still live by the tracks. i also haven’t picked up a blade in over 10 years. the scars are still there, but these days i only pick up scissors to cut my hair. i know why you can’t tell your mom about it. i know how the numbness slips over everything, a restless horrible cotton. i know how when you dropped the dish, you weren’t crying about the broken glass. i know about feeling like all the roads have closed their exits, that you aren’t supposed to still-be-here - and yet.
i am still here, and still yours, and i haven’t forgotten. what i’m saying is if any hope is calling to you - i know it’s hard, but you have to listen. i’m saying keep driving, but slow down the car. sit down in the shower, i’m not judging you. we can stay in the dark with the good hot water and do nothing but stare. notice the stab wound. make it through another tuesday.
i know what it is like to miss yourself. do what you need to. come home to me. i am writing to you, my past self, from the future. i’ll be waiting for you.
and when the train is coming - please move.
im so used to tumblr that i forgot some troglodytes on reddit wouldnt be even surface level familiar with the concept of the robot lesbian
I am the very model of a frightened shaking animal
Ready for Wrath- er, Pride Month
Elon Musk personally stepped in to unban the guys who posted pictures of my address and the inside of my apartment and then permanently banned my account for making a gay for pay joke yeah alright whatever man
This was the joke for the record
By Marco Melgrati
pick whatever option the person you're following who reblogged this post didn't pick. if they didn't say in the tags what they picked or if you're seeing the original post and not a reblog, pick at random instead.
first option
second option
Vijay Sarathy aka Canvasoul aka Theomulator (Indian, b. 1995, Chennai, India, based in the Himalayas) - Photography