good things will happen 🧿
things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿
THIS ONE FUCKING WORKS. REBLOG IT.
this for real fucking works
DEAR READER
d e v o n
occasionally subtle
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
we're not kids anymore.
dirt enthusiast
🪼
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

if i look back, i am lost
Sade Olutola
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Cosmic Funnies
cherry valley forever

★

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blake kathryn

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Peter Solarz

PR's Tumblrdome
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@lovelotus
good things will happen 🧿
things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿
THIS ONE FUCKING WORKS. REBLOG IT.
this for real fucking works
Getting off all socials where people actually know me is probably the best decision especially because I am in the worst mental state then I have ever been in my whole life. So I’m going to start journaling here.
i love you people in my phone i know the seasonal depression is setting in so we need to hold eachother like a litter of kittens in a cardboard box okay...its important
Oddly specific. Got a deposit for 6,837 today
fuck it, i never ever do those “reblog for X, this one really works!” posts, but this one doesn’t have any of that BS, this is just straight up wishing us good things; and then the comment doesn’t even say any of that either. Zero claims on this post, all positive vibes
May you end this week feeling ever more certain of a future you’ll love
Why are you wishing bad luck on people if they don’t?
One thing about me, I love me a nasty mf.
https://evelionheart.medium.com/on-the-intimacy-of-the-mundane-863f9efb3c39
“THE FAWN (After Mary Oliver’s ‘Wild Geese’) You do not have to win at a crisis. You do not have to push yourself to learn a new language or write a book or take up an instrument. Nothing will come of forcing yourself to compete your way out of trauma. Take this time to look at the stars. Take this time to look at how the sky still holds clouds that are the shape of hope. How the dawn begins at the tips of dewy grass, for this is where the horizon begins. Somewhere the dappled fawn raises her soft neck to watch the sun rise over her meadow. Somewhere else monarch butterflies begin their long migration, knowing many of them will not make it home. Remember that you do not need to earn your right to the precious minutes you have on this planet. They are already yours, like the fawn and the butterflies. The universe beckons you to enjoy this life it has given you through a heart that beats to the rhythm of its very own cosmic song.”
— Nikita Gill, from ‘Where Hope Comes From: Poems of Resilience, Healing and Light,’ Trapeze, part of The Orion Publishing Group, 2021
the most jarring thing my dad has ever told me is that we’re the new 60’s
when i asked him what he meant he said that he remembered being a kid in the 60’s, he remembered the long hair and the sex and the push against an older, less tolerant generation for freedom. he was born in 1955 so he wasn’t intimately involved in the progressiveness of it but he said he remembered always understanding the younger generation because they spoke to children like him, children that were being raised in restrictive households that were more prone to rebellion. flash forward to our generation and he’s floored, he’s shocked and a little bit scared because he sees the same passion in us, the same struggle and desire for change but this time he’s the older generation. we’re the new 60’s and he’s the establishment we’re trying to change. and it just strikes me how circular this world is, and how every once in a while a certain generation comes around with their radical, progressive agenda. and one day we’re going to wake up in the future and find ourselves face-to-face with a younger, more progressive generation and we’re going to have to decide if we’re still with them or if we’re the new establishment they’re fighting against
I miss you more than words can say. I wish I could bring you back. I wish I knew more about the other side. I wish I knew that I could join you. That I could visit you . Mom, I wish I could lay in bed with you and watch old episodes of square pegs. Dad I wish I could sit with you and listen to music. Shawana I wish I could come over when I didn’t want to go home. I wish I could hear you call me Ang. I wish I could hear you ask me what I think. But I can’t. All I have are memories and memories hurt like hell right now
I came, I saw, I got anxious, I left
haha me
My red flag is i could ignore you and still think about you all day
Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head, Warsan Shire
this is for the people who went through trauma and didn’t come out of it with thicker skin. but, instead, came back with sensitivity to the world and a deep sadness that won’t go away. some of us went through something and lost a piece of ourselves; our broken hearts never healed quite right afterwards. i see you and i feel you and i am you. it’s going to be okay.