noise dept.
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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will byers stan first human second
Andulka
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Origami Around
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Love Begins
One Nice Bug Per Day
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we're not kids anymore.
official daine visual archive
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Today's Document
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@monkeyjournals
Your daughters do not exist to give you grandchildren
Or domestic labour by the age of 7
And they’re not a mini-mom for their siblings either
Or be your personal therapist.
They’re not here to live the life you wish you had.
The last one is important for sons, as well. Your children are not an extension of you.
Your children, regardless of gender, is not an OC for you to place your ideals onto, push your dreams onto, and force into trauma.
If you want an experiment, write a book
Proving a point to my boyfriend.
PLEASE REBLOG if you (male or female) believe it is perfectly okay and natural for a guy of any age to cry
I’ve never hit reblog faster or harder.
The fact that nobody is talking about Secret’s new commercials pisses me off
This makes me so happy ☺️
Yesssss😭 I damn near cried
I LOVE THIS OMFG
YOOOOOOOOOOO THATS AMAZING!!!!!
Can someone help me understand I wanna cry to ..I feel something went over my head
The woman in the bathroom is trans and is scared that if she comes out of the stall the women that walked in will insult or harass her. but when she comes out they compliment her on her dress instead. The add ends with saying “stress tested for women.” It means Secret is including trans women in their definition of women.
I have reblogged this three times now, each one mentioning the fact that Secret not only included a trans woman, but that they /had the other women compliment her dress and treat her with respect/. I will reblog this every time I see it because it’s so important. More companies should involve trans people in their marketing - we do exist. Props to Secret for getting in on this movement. It makes me really happy to see more of the trans community represented in daily television.
“Você não é depressivo, bipolar ou tem insônia. Somente fica triste às vezes, muda de humor e dorme tarde.”
— Autor desconhecido.
Amores vazios. Sentimentos vazios. Vidas vazias.
Ás vezes só queremos ser alguém, mesmo que não faça sentido nenhum.
Estou sentindo as coisas irem embora e não consigo fazer nada. Tento segurar mas escorrega pela minha mão. E não falo apenas de oportunidades mas também de pessoas. A cada dia me sinto mais só, me sinto em um mundo que só existe eu e mais ninguém. Passo horas e horas calado, sem ninguém para conversar, para me ajudar ou apenas para estar sabe?
[solidão que não acaba]
“I crave physical affection. I ache for it in my every nerve ending. My whole body craves the feel of your touch ghosting across my neck, my arms, my hips, my legs… Your fingers caressing my skin, barely, softly, slowly, electrocuting the hair on the back of my neck. My head on your chest, and the way your breathing lulls my entire body to nirvana.”
—
“It’s easy to take off your clothes and have sex. People do it all the time. But opening up your soul to someone, letting them into your spirit, thoughts, fears, future, hopes, dreams… that is being naked.” -Rob Bell
O seu espaço no meu
Dois corpos que dividem um espaço. Aonde encontro a permissividade do toque?
Mesmo no calor da minha pele na sua, não sinto sensualidade, ela se perde na dúvida do seu corpo no meu.
Procuro proximidade e distância no nosso constrangimento pendente, e me pergunto se nossas almas se encontram nessa dança esquizofrênica. Encontro apenas o desarranjo na falta de intimidade.
Por algum motivo, ainda assim, não anseio por espaço. É como se a sua solidão não incomodasse a minha.
Desisto do toque, ainda assim me sinto confortada pela presença desajeitada do seu corpo procurando pelo próprio lugar.
Existe algo tranquilizante em nosso desencontro forçado, nos corpos que parecem procurar a si mesmos.
Até quando sigo sem ceder a solidão?
Dessa vez sinto que encontrei um acerto no erro.
“I’ve experienced a few types of love so far. Each one distinct and different. I’ve had the innocent love, with stories and ‘one day’s. It started my pursuit for ‘true love’.I’ve had the convinced love; I was convinced that I loved and not to argue it. It tore me up and broke me down.I’ve been ‘in love’. It truly was movie material: passion, pain, completion, and emptiness. It taught me so much about myself.I’ve broken a heart so close to me, a best friend I am so lucky to still have. They looked at me with more love than I’ve ever seen, but I couldn’t feel the same. I’m still unsure if it was my fear of falling again or my disinterest of the entire feeling.And currently I have the silent love. We don’t exchange ‘I love you’s, but we have such stability and authenticity. It lacks a certain fire but holds high level of reality. I’m sure we love each other in some way; however, we both don’t dare admit it for some reason.”
— Thoughts during my long night drives
I wonder if you think about me as much as I think of you.
My Love,
Undress me slowly.
Burn every inch of my bare body with the heat of your caresses.
Pull me tightly into you.
Let me feel the hardness and the softness of your love for me.
Let me feel your surrender.
Kiss the breath out of me.
Don’t stop.
Taste me,
Taste every inch of me.
Trace every contour of my body
with your tongue,
with your lips,
with your fingertips.
Explore me.
Take your time.
Linger.
Take my love,
Slowly,
Deeply.
Feel that I am yours.
Hold on tight.
Don’t let go.
Feel my warmth,
feel my passion,
feel my love.
Envelop me,
Take all of me into you.
Absorb me.
Breathe me.
Love me.
Just. Love. Me.
Just love me.
Like I love you.
Emme
Show me.
“Eu chorei porque eu sempre canso de tudo e tudo sempre cansa de mim.”
— Tati Bernardi.
Um título, se eu quisesse algum.
Nossa, faz muito tempo que eu não escrevo.
Estive imersa nesse processo criativo louco, ao mesmo tempo que presa sem direção nenhuma. Acho que me perdi em algum lugar do mundo e ainda não me achei, como um bilhete perdido no meio dos túneis do metrô, ao léu, sendo levado pelos vácuos de vento que o movimento causa.
É como eu tenho me sentido, cada vez que algo parece pedir que meu coração esquente. Me disseram hoje que derrubariam as paredes e se aproximariam mais, mas acho que as minhas paredes também tem estado altas demais.
Queria uma receita que me permitisse ser mais presente nessa coisa que se chama vida, apesar das feridas todas que ela me causa. Acho que eu cansei de sangrar.
Hoje eu senti o peso do abandono e da solidão, se ninguém se importa, pensei, não vou me importar com ninguém. Ao mesmo tempo que um urro dentro de mim chorava perguntando "por que todo mundo vai embora?"
O que tem, dentro de mim, de tão errado que parece que eu sou impossível de amar?
Só andei me perguntando.
Acho que são os muros.
me when i get my student loan
this is the money cat. reblog in 30 seconds and you will find yourself with more wealth
#this is the only money cat i will reblog because it’s actually doing the manekineko pose151,646 notes (via lolwhutninja)
OMG YOU’RE RIGHT
and it has its right paw up! the correct paw for this. and from the markings on its ears, it looks like it might be a calico cat. which is the luckiest kind!
extremely lucky cat
I don’t even care if it actually works, I’m mostly reblogging because it’s freaking adorable.
cute cat and need money, good post, 10/10
in case anyones interested in the other versions
http://www.namaii.com/manekineko/maneki-neko-types.html
Y’know I reblogged this a bit ago and was saved from financial probation and getting kicked out of school because of it, just mere months from graduation. Got a call from the financial aid advisor telling me that they made a mistake with filing my account (or some other sort of clerical error) and said that, basically, they owe me money. Welp.
Last time I reblogged the money cat, I won two $100 gift cards at work.
