just sad

probably an unhealthy obsession with love and personal shit and books •they/them•

[loooovelikeyou]

If you follow me you should know that my main is cryptidcucumber. I’m much more active here, but if you get a follow from cryptidcucumber we are friends and I love you dearly.

[theweirdwideweb]

300 year old leather star map by the Skidi, one of the four bands of the Pawnee tribe. The Skidi Pawnee historically lived on the Central Plains of Nebraska and Kansas.

[nubbsgalore]

flamingos flying over tanzania’s lake natron, a salt lake which is home to three quarters of the world’s three million lesser flamingos, as well as toxic multicoloured extremophile cyanobacteria that thrive in water so hypersaline it would strip away human skin. for the flamingos, however, the tough skin and scales on their legs prevents burning, leaving them uniquely free to drink from the near boiling freshwater found from springs and geysers at the lake’s edges.  (x, x, x, x, x)

[antigonickpdf]

our longing for inconvenience by hanif abdurraqib (id in alt)

[tanyushenka]

Sunset in the Mediterranean, Palestine, 1933

[wovi]

[clawmarks]

Journal of decorative art - 1881 - via Internet Archive

[pmamtraveller]

By Youran Tang

[dirtshrines]

carpenter bee wing

[natureaestheticdreams]

[oatymilks]

elena

[pngblog]

[pmamtraveller]

the beauty of the reflection

[lunchboxpoems]

BOSTON

I've been meaning to tell you how the sky is pink here sometimes like the roof of a mouth that's about to chomp down on the crooked steel teeth of the city,

I remember the desperate things we did and that I stumble down sidewalks listening to the buzz of street lamps at dusk and the crush of leaves on the pavement,

Without you here I'm viciously lonely

and I can't remember the last time I felt holy, the last time I offered myself as sanctuary

*

I watched two men press hard into each other, their bodies caught in the club’s bass drum swell, and I couldn’t remember when I knew I’d never be beautiful, but it must have been quick and subtle, the way the holy ghost can pass in and out of a room. I want so desperately to be finished with desire, the rushing wind, the still small voice.

AARON SMITH

[northwindow]

from Bhanu Kapil’s The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers

[priezpourlui]

[minotauri]

by Gisela Jané

[ificouldlookoutyoureyesiwould]