almost home

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Cosimo Galluzzi
d e v o n
Jules of Nature
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
will byers stan first human second

if i look back, i am lost
Xuebing Du

ellievsbear

Discoholic 🪩
dirt enthusiast

JVL

#extradirty
Misplaced Lens Cap
cherry valley forever
DEAR READER
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Love Begins

tannertan36

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@msdanascully
“Rich and layered, deep and alternatively light and tragic, it’s the show that changed, well, everything really, about how television drama was executed. It lives on even today, as we see how the protagonists of Fox Mulder the Believer and Dana Scully the Skeptic continue to influence how characters are shaped, and the way the mythology of the show allowed for primetime television to explore new roads of storytelling. It was beautiful and asked the most human of questions regarding our existence and our beliefs, but more than anything, it was a love story in every possible regard— the love for life, the love for truth, and of course, the love for each other.”
I made a little comic out of the quote that inspired me to watch The X-Files. If anyone knows who wrote it, please let me know so I can thank them.
Parallels - Home | 4.02 & Home again | 10.04
Probablemente nunca te conozca, pero esa mirada tuya me dice que siempre me va a acompañar tu voz.
Mulder: Dana, if early in the four years we’ve been working together an event occurred that suggested… or somebody told you that we’d been friends together, in other lifetimes. Always. Would it have changed some of the ways we looked at one another?
Scully: Even if I knew for certain, I wouldn’t change a day.
Scully loving Mulder [requested by anonymous]
Mulder visiting Scully doing her thing
Gillian and David golden globes ‘97
thought of you.
Once, On yellow paper, with green lines, he wrote a poem, And called it “Chops”, Because that was the name of his dog, And that’s what it was all about. And the teacher gave him an “A” And a gold star, And his mother hung it on the kitchen door, And read it to all his aunts. That was the year his sister was born, With tiny toenails and no hair, And Father Tracy took them to the zoo And let them sing on the bus. And his mother and father kissed a lot And the girl around the corner sent him a Christmas card Signed with a row of x’s. And his father always tucked him in at night, And he was always there to do it. Once, On white paper, with blue lines, he wrote another poem. And he called it “Autumn” Because that was the name of a season, And that’s what it was all about. And the teacher gave him an “A” And told him to write more clearly. And his mother didn’t hang it on the kitchen door Because the door Had just been painted. That was the year his sister got glasses, With black frames and thick lenses. And the kids told him why father and mother Kissed a lot, And that Father Tracy smoked cigars And left butts on the pews, And the girl around the block laughed When he went to see Santa Claus at Macy’s. And his father stopped tucking him in bed at night, And got mad when he cried for him to. Once, On paper torn from his notebook, he wrote another poem, And he called it “Question Marked Innocence”, Because that was the name of his grief And that’s what it was all about. And the professor gave him an “A” And a strange and steady look. And his mother never hung it on the door Because he never let her see it. That year he found his sister necking on the back porch And his parents never kissed, or even smiled. And he forgot how the end of the “Apostle’s Creed” went, And Father Tracy died. And the girl around the block wore too much make-up That made him cough when he kissed her, But he kissed her anyway. Once, At 3 a.m., he tucked himself in bed, His father snoring soundly. He tried another poem, on the back of a pack of matches, And he called it “absolutely nothing” Because that’s what it was all about. And he gave himself an “A” And a slash on each damp wrist, And hung it on the bathroom door, Because he couldn’t reach the kitchen.
“To Santa Claus and Little Sisters” written by an anonymous 15 year old boy 2 years before he killed himself in the late 1960s. (via babybluefeminist)