brooklyn, ny. 1982 (by meryl meisler)
ojovivo

PR's Tumblrdome

JVL
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

shark vs the universe

bliss lane

Love Begins
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Noah Kahan
Claire Keane
taylor price
Xuebing Du

titsay

#extradirty
RMH

gracie abrams

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Game of Thrones Daily
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
trying on a metaphor

seen from Malaysia
seen from Portugal

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
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seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
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seen from Venezuela
seen from Japan
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seen from United States
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@miss---rachael
brooklyn, ny. 1982 (by meryl meisler)
It’s almost as if nobody wants to admit that they might not be prepared to do the work it takes to love somebody. And it can be laborious. To be intimate with someone who is flawed (which is the standard) requires us to expose our own flaws. We don’t talk about the heavy responsibility of that. We don’t talk about how we’re too lazy or too cowardly sometimes. We instead accuse love of being elusive. It isn’t. It is omnipresent. It asks us to be better people. And sometimes we flat out refuse.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
My dream. — Shop halfpintkitchenette.com
Book and Dining Club. Halfpint Kitchenette is a curated space for beautiful goods, healthy recipes, and space to share the journey to wellne
Hi my tumblr world. —missed you.
There are two types of summer; white and dark.
White summers are those full of lawn and linen, the sea and soft sunshine, cherries and children’s smiles, in which you feel disconnected and light, almost floating, dreamy and distant in a haze of white dandelion fluff. You don’t ever want to land.
Dark summers are honeyed and sulky, full of pomegranates, thunderstorms, magnolias and un-kept promises. Cinematic and shadowy, you exist in a trance of melancholy, and feel passionately, though feign detachment. Pandora opens the box, and lightning fills the sky.
dressing up
When you are attracted to people, it's because of the details. Their kindness. Their eyes. The fact that they can get you to laugh when you need it the most.
— Jodi Picoult, Sing You Home
Goldie girl
Goldie girl