Jules of Nature
RMH
Love Begins
JBB: An Artblog!
styofa doing anything
$LAYYYTER
NASA
sheepfilms
pixel skylines
★
dirt enthusiast
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ellievsbear
YOU ARE THE REASON
Janaina Medeiros
Andulka
shark vs the universe
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
🪼
#extradirty
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@nobiscum2-blog
Concept: Angels don’t have to wear their halos on their head.
Turn the halo into a gold collar.
Shrink it down into a ring or bracelet.
Turn it into a gold septum.
Sacred nipple piercings.
please stop telling me about halo cock rings
Molly Malone Cook Helping the Traveler 1965
The Onaga Herald, Kansas, July 2, 1916
You can be a kind person and still say no.
i haven’t been here in a while but i’m just popping in to say that emmanuel has nice bushy eyebrows because the world needs something soft to rest on
emmanuel sends you all love and affection and warmth to welcome you in the new year, though belatedly... <3 i’m not here much these days but i’m on my personal @serosvit and if you ever want to talk about rp things i’m always up for it :’)
Tarot II - The High Priestess
sidenote and a rather desperate one but if you leave me some asks i might try to reply to them. see if i can revive this blog or nah. ahhh
sidenote and a rather desperate one but if you leave me some asks i might try to reply to them. see if i can revive this blog or nah. ahhh
take these they will support you emotionally and bring joy
sidenote and a rather desperate one but if you leave me some asks i might try to reply to them. see if i can revive this blog or nah. ahhh
Home of Lorenzo Castillo
1960s Jansen daybeds upholstered in a Madeleine Castaing fabric, replica of a Michelangelo sculpture from a Paris flea market, and 19th-century Spanish doors.
every so often i post a few passages from this. it’s by ken liu, whose explanation of silkpunk i just reblogged, and it’s an excerpt from his story paper menagerie (linked here in its entirety; it won the hugo, the nebula, and the world fantasy awards, the first work of fiction to do so). it is not remotely an easy read, particularly if you are a child of a diaspora, particularly if you have ever struggled with assimilation, particularly if you are struggling with cultural and personal identity. it shouldn’t need to pull its punches, and it doesn’t. if you haven’t read it already, i cannot recommend it highly enough. it will not make you feel better, but it is an axe for one’s internal frozen sea, if you will. sometimes a story like this is the only way to stay alive.
It’s literally toxic to think you have to try to save everyone. You aren’t never ending. Give yourself a break. Some people can learn to save themselves.
Once upon a time, there was an old man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing.He had a habit of walking on the beach every morning before he began his work. Early one morning, he was walking along the shore after a big storm had passed and found the vast beach littered with starfish as far as the eye could see, stretching in both directions.
Off in the distance, the old man noticed a small boy approaching. As the boy walked, he paused every so often and as he grew closer, the man could see that he was occasionally bending down to pick up an object and throw it into the sea. The boy came closer still and the man called out, “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”
The young boy paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean. The tide has washed them up onto the beach and they can’t return to the sea by themselves,” the youth replied. “When the sun gets high, they will die, unless I throw them back into the water.”
The old man replied, “But there must be tens of thousands of starfish on this beach. I’m afraid you won’t really be able to make much of a difference.”
The boy bent down, picked up yet another starfish and threw it as far as he could into the ocean. Then he turned, smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one!”
The parable of the starfish was exactly on my mind when I made the addition to the original post. I’m glad someone was able to see the same.
hello hello who here still remembers the softest angel who smells of tea and herbs and smiles like the sun?
