@lovesong - Tumblr Blog

very young and learning how to live ♡

they/she 22 white — zionists & terfs dni

i <3 people, summer, the beach, hugs, music, sunlight on water, trees, clouds, books, studio ghibli & other films, museums, gustav klimt's the kiss, nectarines & other summer fruit, sweet treats, space, snoopy, miffy, spider-man, cats & other animals, being in high places, dancing in my room, the sunset, cave art, bathroom graffiti, etc.

my substack

fredddissimo

yes. klance in the year of our lord 2025. deal w it

fredddissimo

you’re all i need <3

i tried coloring like i do on paperrr i like the results very much !

ceruleanheaven

month starting on a monday we have no excuse guys lets get to work and lock the fuck in

ceruleanheaven

yk its actually very chic and avant garde to start on tuesday the second

ceruleanheaven

many claim theres nothing more subversive and revolutionary than starting on wednesday the third

kidovna

reminiscing how good we had it with s4 byler lowkey

alondrathegiraffe

noahandjude🌟

desperate to reach any other igyt fans so im posting this here too

more igyts art

#this is sooo perfect and exactly how i imagined them omg !!! <333

alonesomes

“[after a half-hearted suicide attempt at age 13] When Daddy comes in, he carries you to bed. Is there anything you feel like you could eat, Pokey? Anything at all? All you can imagine putting in your mouth is a cold plum, one with really tight skin on the outside but gum-shocking sweetness inside. And he and your mother discuss where he might find some this late in the season. Mother says hell I don’t know. Further north, I’d guess. The next morning, you wake up in your bed and sit up. Mother says, Pete, I think she’s up. He hollers in, You ready for breakfast, Pokey. Then he comes in grinning, still in his work clothes from the night before. He’s holding a farm bushel. The plums he empties onto the bed river toward you through folds in the quilt. If you stacked them up, they’d fill the deepest bin at the Piggly Wiggly. Damned if I didn’t get the urge to drive to Arkansas last night, he says. Your mother stands behind him saying he’s pure USDA crazy. Fort Smith, Arkansas. Found a roadside stand out there with a feller selling plums. And I says, Buddy, I got a little girl sick back in Texas. She’s got a hanker for plums and ain’t nothing else gonna do. It’s when you sink your teeth into the plum that you make a promise. The skin is still warm from riding in the sun in Daddy’s truck, and the nectar runs down your chin. And you snap out of it. Or are snapped out of it. Never again will you lay a hand against yourself, not so long as there are plums to eat and somebody-anybody-who gives enough of a damn to haul them to you. So long as you bear the least nibblet of love for any other creature in this dark world, though in love portions are never stingy. There are no smidgens or pinches, only rolling abundance. That’s how you acquire the resolution for survival that the coming years are about to demand. You don’t earn it. It’s given.”

— Mary Karr, “Cherry” (via lifeinpoetry)

gallarie

alysa liu

heartpdf

finita--la--commedia

“Time is not a straight line, it’s more of a labyrinth, and if you press close to the wall at the right place you can hear the hurrying steps and the voices, you can hear yourself walking past on the other side.”

— Tomas Tranströmer (1931-2015), from “Answers to Letters”, in: “The Great Enigma”, translated from the Swedish by Robin Fulton