oh. ok.

Product Placement

if i look back, i am lost

Jimmy Eat World
Monterey Bay Aquarium
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
official daine visual archive
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
hello vonnie
No title available

tannertan36
Mike Driver

Origami Around
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
macklin celebrini has autism
No title available
One Nice Bug Per Day
Sade Olutola
Sweet Seals For You, Always
occasionally subtle
seen from Iraq
seen from Venezuela
seen from Australia
seen from Iraq
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Ecuador

seen from South Africa
seen from Chile
seen from United States
seen from United States
@nickthekatz-blog
oh. ok.
Love Song of Illum
The shattering of glass is punctuated
by the spray of the ocean and the crying out of ropes
In time they’ll learn to keep still.
All the lamps groan with the memory
Of the weight of those they have lit.
diseased vermin creep out over the deck
Ever fearful and unaware of their impending doom
In time they’ll learn.
That’s what they all say.
He’ll just wind up dead in the end.
Inside they’re singing.
A nervous tension crashes through their litany
like a dancer wearing a ball and chain.
They’re all on the way.
Not that they’ve got anywhere to go.
No more tears they say,
I have that hundred dollars they say,
I’m just an understudy.
Yeah, I’ll say.
dat alpha
experimenting with color schemes on my new portrait pieces
Iain Macarthur
Mistah Kurtz—he dead. A penny for the Old Guy I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats’ feet over broken glass In our dry cellar Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion; Those who have crossed With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom Remember us—if at all—not as lost Violent souls, but only As the hollow men The stuffed men. II Eyes I dare not meet in dreams In death’s dream kingdom These do not appear: There, the eyes are Sunlight on a broken column There, is a tree swinging And voices are In the wind’s singing More distant and more solemn Than a fading star. Let me be no nearer In death’s dream kingdom Let me also wear Such deliberate disguises Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves In a field Behaving as the wind behaves No nearer— Not that final meeting In the twilight kingdom III This is the dead land This is cactus land Here the stone images Are raised, here they receive The supplication of a dead man’s hand Under the twinkle of a fading star. Is it like this In death’s other kingdom Waking alone At the hour when we are Trembling with tenderness Lips that would kiss Form prayers to broken stone. IV The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this valley of dying stars In this hollow valley This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms In this last of meeting places We grope together And avoid speech Gathered on this beach of the tumid river Sightless, unless The eyes reappear As the perpetual star Multifoliate rose Of death’s twilight kingdom The hope only Of empty men. V Here we go round the prickly pear Prickly pear prickly pear Here we go round the prickly pear At five o’clock in the morning. Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom Between the conception And the creation Between the emotion And the response Falls the Shadow Life is very long Between the desire And the spasm Between the potency And the existence Between the essence And the descent Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom For Thine is Life is For Thine is the This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.
T.S. Eliot
i fell in love with the way you fall asleep
you lie so still
willing yourself from this perception
and then
as if by accident
you succeed
you start to move
start to dream
live the life you’ve always wanted to
and the life you fear
all at the same time
as if by accident
Carol Rama at Isabella Bortolozzi
roadkill?
The Science of Happiness, Goncalo Viana.
Pity, he rambles
Across the fields through the sun
So kind, so alone
Searching for something from which to run
Drinking from the styrofoam cup of his deservings
The condemned savior of a gun
The mad are leading the blind to Colonus
Ambition waits for his favorite son
“a stellar illustration of sound waves emanating from a bell, from wright’s sound, light and heat, london 1887” via airform archives
Full story: An 8-year-old boy in Austria has made friends with a local colony of marmots.
It’s the cutest thing ever. I can only imagine what amazing things he is learning about the world… (click above link)
like a boss.