d e v o n
Andulka
#extradirty
Claire Keane
Discoholic 🪩
tumblr dot com
Janaina Medeiros
Show & Tell
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
RMH
Today's Document
Kiana Khansmith
ojovivo
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Jules of Nature
Kaledo Art
oozey mess
Monterey Bay Aquarium
No title available
KIROKAZE
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Cambodia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
@mortalsouldreaming
"Where we pray when our hearts are strong enough We can bow, 'cause our music's warmer than blood... ...Where the sun isn't only sinking fast Ever night knows how long its suposed to last... ...Every moon and our bodies make shining glass... ...And we get a chance to say Before we ease away For all the love you've left behind You can have mine.
Iron and Wine; Call it Dreaming
contemplating existence is nice and so are fireflies. Long live this queen.
"May your words be well worth stealing; put your hand on your heart when you're singing." -Iron and Wine - Biting Your Tail
Some streaks of light are beginning to appear in the east there, behind our mountain.
The morning star always looks wonderful bright the minute before it has to go, doesn’t it?
Goodnight ✨💫🕊️
the beetle boy:
in 3rd grade, I moved to a new school. I met a a boy there. he and I used to collect bugs in the field by the playground. we found bees and ants and rose beetles; named them. kids killed them. kids "disrespected the grave", as they called it. they never seemed to understand.
not many of them liked me. they went so far as to slap my arms where the occasional firefly rested. all that was left was a smudge of brown blood. I cried. not there, of course- I saved it for when the car rolled into our driveway after a long day. and I bawled, to the comfort and safety of my mother.
after a few weeks of scavenging among the fallen leaves, I found out, from his few snickering friends, that he ~liked~ me. I was confused, the 9 year old that I was. we were kids. I didn't really know what that meant.
we didn't go bug hunting very much after that.
------------------------
now, I realize that he didn't really find bugs too fascinating. just me. and I wonder- why? he spent weeks of recess time to sit in the dirt and stroke bumble bees, and for what?
I saw him at the library the other day- outside, sitting on a bench in the corner. he was a shadow. black headphones, black bag. he scrolled through his phone. he tried so very hard to not be seen. I wonder what's become of him. I wonder if he still has the wonder-filled eyes of who I knew him to be. I wonder if he looks at beetles and ants from time to time, and remembers. I do. sometimes.
rest in peace, beetle boy. thank you for being my friend.
i'm sorry.
"Make your bed":
sweep the white sheets of moonlight laced with stars
brush away the imprint of the dreamer who rested there
not you
but your soul.
Fluff the quilt of protection
that you lived through the night
and were warm
the warmth of your first sweet dream lingers.
you met him again
in your dreams.
his smile
was for you
and a bond
only hopelessly wished for
glowed.
you'd been praying for that for a long eternity.
air out the lingering thoughts
trapped under the covers.
the sorrows
and joys
of the nocturnal.
you can see
in the corner
where the cat rested.
you can see
on the side
the fold of the blankets where you emerged at 4:00.
you can see
the remains
of yet again another silent night.
and you feel the soft cloth of sheets
beneath your fingers
where your still body
was wrapped
only to arise
in the sharp pains
of morning life.
so go child
make your bed
fix ruin what was made
by the watch of the moon.
it's the thrill of mortality- and oh isn't it wonderful; accepting the life of mortality, becoming immortal.
oh how wonderfully easy is it.
makes you want to dance on a star or something, doesn't it?
Valdemar Irminger - Children say goodnight to the stars (1898)
alas, from the beginning of time, haven't we all smiled at the stars in innocent wonder; broken wonder. even just once.
and they've always smiled back.
to fall in love-
both the sweetest to the soul
and the sharpest to the heart.
11/30/23
goodbye, dear november. you came and went and gave me hope. you showed me a story, and for it I can't repay. rest in eternal peace as you sigh in calendars history. fare thee well, eleventh of 2023. may the agonies of time rock you to sleep as you watch us move on.
Writing about that first love on kindergarten.
About that girl i loved at first sight 2 years ago.
The one that i left and the one that left me.
A beautiful stranger at the buss stop.
My soulmate who wasn’t meant to be.
But mostly for myself.
I am.
This is so beautiful ima cry :’)
Dear Louisa:
you were 2 when you died in 1814. nobody remembers you. but I found your name. and I do. and I'm writing about you, louisa. you're my main character. the one who holds it all together. you're the one who they all live for. you didn't know anyone would read your name in reverence. but they will. I promise you, they will.
you lived, louisa.
you're not forgotten.
November is the month of poets, artists, thinkers, lovers and wanderers
life before death. strength before weakness. journey before destination.
Brandon Sanderson - The Way of Kings
on the night i felt most alive.
i can be trusted on a nature walk i promise. i promise i will stay on the trail and will not run off into the forest never to be seen again i promise
