Bill Brandt Untitled (Le Baiser Mystérieux) 1934
Mike Driver
cherry valley forever
AnasAbdin
Today's Document
Cosimo Galluzzi
todays bird

PR's Tumblrdome

Origami Around
trying on a metaphor
styofa doing anything
sheepfilms
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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No title available
RMH
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Discoholic 🪩
dirt enthusiast

shark vs the universe

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

seen from United States
seen from Israel

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Türkiye
seen from Australia

seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from Australia

seen from Türkiye
@laziest
Bill Brandt Untitled (Le Baiser Mystérieux) 1934
If it’s meant to be I’ll see you later
“I had a sense of myself as a haunted house.”
— Jeanette Winterson, from Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?
source: unknown
anxious-avoidant blogging style
they should invent a body that feels normal to be inside of
“You have to create your own space which has a lot of silence in it and a lot of books.”
— Susan Sontag, from an interview conducted c. October 1979 (via violentwavesofemotion)
to make art and to make love for the rest of my life is the goal
y’all mind if i unearth ancient secrets?
“how could you have forgotten that” i forget Everything. unless i remember
"how can you remember that" I remember Everything. unless I forget
@ the water that drips down my arms when i wash my face and makes a big ass mess: fuckin fight me
reasons I’m still on this hellsite:
1) nowhere else I could find posts this specifically relatable
no sorry i dont really use instagram, i can contact you via ouija board, spirit box, fluctuations in temperature, flickering lights, and certain rituals. i am also on tumblr.
I just wanna be a fairy and live in a tulip
“I needed to be reminded of mysterious and sacred things,”
— Albert Camus, from his preface to Jean Grenier’s “Les Iles,” c. 1959
not to gross u out but i daydream abt u resting ur head on my chest and ur completely at ease and ur safe and warm
“you slid into my life as though / a witch’s smock — a sun poem.”
— A. K. Blakemore, from “May,” published in The White Review