ojovivo
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Kiana Khansmith

shark vs the universe
Sade Olutola

pixel skylines
One Nice Bug Per Day
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
cherry valley forever
The Bowery Presents
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Today's Document
The Stonewall Inn
Fai_Ryy
Mike Driver

Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Cosmic Funnies

ellievsbear
seen from Colombia

seen from Türkiye
seen from India

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from India

seen from Colombia
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Belgium
seen from Indonesia
seen from Pakistan
seen from India
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seen from United States
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seen from Singapore
@moinksy
regarding the röttgen pietà, elle emerson
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.
Annie Dillard, The Writing Life
— Joe Moran, “Why you should read this article slowly” in The Guardian
Know that you can start late, look different, be uncertain and still succeed.
Misty Copeland
“I could not stop wasting time. It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldn’t even tell you about anything that I saw. I didn’t talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.”
Yiwei Chai, The Jacaranda Years
requiem, jill osier.
Absolutely insane lines to just drop in the middle of an academic text btw. Feeling so normal about this.
[ A Critical History of English Literature, Vol. 1, Prof. David Daiches, first published in 1960 ]
By Jason Ting
pomegranates in still life (details)
June Gehringer, “EARTH IS AN ANAGRAM FOR HEART, U FUCKING IDIOTS”
[Text ID: “I don’t want to talk about it. / I want to lie in what little grass remains / and try to fit your heart inside of mine.”]
La Nuit by Auguste Raynaud, 1887
Fucking. Wow im gonna die
Heather Havrilesky
Girl dancers in nature, postcard circa 1920
“This is also the message of classic horror: if the monster learns appropriate restraint, it becomes an angel.”
— Kirk J. Schneider, Horror and the Holy: Wisdom-Teachings of the Monster Tale
Donald Duclow, The Hungers of Hadewijch and Eckhart
— Paul Guest, from “1987.”