I do not know what makes a writer, but it probably isn’t happiness.
William Saroyan, The Bicycle Rider in Beverly Hills (via litverve)
sheepfilms

@theartofmadeline

⁂
Peter Solarz

pixel skylines
Today's Document
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
tumblr dot com
Jules of Nature
Game of Thrones Daily

JVL
styofa doing anything

ellievsbear

if i look back, i am lost
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Origami Around
art blog(derogatory)
todays bird
AnasAbdin

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from France

seen from Germany
seen from Israel

seen from Australia

seen from United States

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from Canada

seen from Türkiye
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Netherlands
@michiamosatoko
I do not know what makes a writer, but it probably isn’t happiness.
William Saroyan, The Bicycle Rider in Beverly Hills (via litverve)
Lake Ninevah, Vermont, 1985
Kwon Chi Tseng
I wanted to be nothing. I wanted to be impossible.
Anne Sexton (via punlovsin)
I continue to dream.
Langston Hughes, from “I Continue To Dream” (via the-final-sentence)
KITAOKA Fumio(北岡文雄 Japanese, 1918-2007)
Snowy Mountain 雪の山 1975 Woodblock Print via
Lisboa. Alfama, década de 60.
the titles have always been there, 2015
Richard Auxilio ©Auxiliofaux2015
I will turn 24 very soon. I cannot believe I could survive to this day especially when I think about how I wanted to disappear from this world during my late teens and a few years after that. I have always thought that I was living a lonely, reclusive life, but looking back, I realize that I was not completely alone. There were some encounters with people. They might not have had a direct impact on me, but it is certain that those encounters somehow became the source of energy for me to get through those hard years. Maybe I look normal now but I think I still have some mental difficulties inside. But what is different now is the fact that I can believe, if a bit hesitantly, that I will surely manage the situation. It might sound a cliché, but I am very grateful to all the people I met and supported me in some way. Especially, to my friends. (I even think it is miraculous that I still have some friends around me.) I have never been so thankful before. Lots of love, S
Only those who care about you can hear you when you are quiet.
Unknown (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
I sometimes think that I enjoy suffering. But the truth is I would prefer something else.
Fernando Pessoa (via poeticsofdeath)
untitled by marie havre on Flickr.
tag the distances
I needed my mistakes in their own order to get me here
W. S. Merwin, from “Wild Oats,” in The Moon Before Morning
with thanks to memoryslandscape
(via litverve)
I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I have always been. I will always be. I just know it. Still, I would hesitate to shed the skin. I would refuse to exchange my cursed skin with the one which belongs to someone else.
Picasso Blues by Grant Snider.