tired!!!

liz | she/her back again loool

[the-old-masters]

Venice (1877) by William Merritt Chase

[loveridden1999]

they really take money from your bank account when you buy something this is so fucked up :/

[sogladiatorexpert]

[ashstfu]

i don’t think people understand how much of life is grief. not just people dying, but losing the version of yourself you thought you’d become. grieving the city you had to leave. the friends you lost not in argument, but in silence. the summer that will never come back. the feeling that maybe you peaked at 12 when you were reading books under the covers and believing in forever

[historicl]

Dirck Santvoort (detail)

[currentlycryingaboutlancelot]

[through tears] yeah i remain whimsical

[dailyclassicart]

Pieter Jansz. Saenredam - "St Antoniuskapel in the St Janskerk, Utrecht" (1645)

[witchesandslippersandhoods]

A Style That Could Grow on You photographed by Bruce Weber, Vogue UK December 1984

[milfsisyphus]

stop earning advanced degrees i need you to finish your fanfiction

[chrissyjoshys]

but your honour thats my emotional support word i overuse

[sogladiatorexpert]

[lamignonette]

[girlmostlikely]

[cutecipher]

#believewomen

[georgecuntanza]

love books. because it’s like what if something happened

[moonandtrees]

[classicdavinci]

'The Tempest'. Michele Tedesco. 1888.

[makingsenseofwhathappened]

Cut In Half

Cut in half, you stopped eating for a while. Simply forgot. The air was dead with whole families of fruit flies inhaled at once. Your own skin made a lonely noise.

At the back of the bus later staring at your hands. What were these for now? That’s it then, you think. That’s the end of being a person. And the day drives on into weeks anyway.

One morning you eat half a pear standing over the sink. The dead face of fruit stares right back at you. The not crying at the sunny window. That is something. Some words on paper about it.

Just how did you stay on? You cannot imagine. But here's you pulling down handfuls of life from the trees again. The rotting flesh under your shoes smelling sweet as you reach up.

The End? you were thinking?