occasionally subtle
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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Jules of Nature
NASA
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sheepfilms
styofa doing anything
Stranger Things
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ellievsbear
DEAR READER
$LAYYYTER
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hello vonnie
@theartofmadeline
shark vs the universe
Cosimo Galluzzi
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@notyourseer
Ronan said, “Life isn’t just sex and drugs and cars.”
Kavinsky stood up. The thorns whipped at his legs, sinking into his cargo pants. His heavy-lidded eyes held Ronan’s, and Ronan thought of all the times he had looked through the window of his BMW and seen Kavinsky looking back. The illicit thrill of it. The certainty that Kavinsky didn’t let anyone tell him who he was.
Kavinsky said, “Mine is.”
You’ll disappear and no one will know it
WE’RE ALL GODS SERIES | 5/? | ghcstking as Hypnos
Hypnos was a primordial deity in Greek mythology, the personification of sleep. He lived in a cave next to his twin brother, Thanatos, in the underworld, where no light was cast by the sun or the moon; the earth in front of the cave was full of poppies and other sleep-inducing plants. The river Lethe (the river of forgetfulness) flowed through the cave. He was the son of Nyx (night) and Erebus (darkness), while his wife, Pasithea, was one of the youngest of the Graces and was given to him by Hera. Hypnos and Pasithea had a number of sons called the Oneiroi (the dreams), who according to some sources were three in number; Morpheus, Phobetor and Phantasos.
songs at midnight, follow the twisted shadows, lost in your own town, & don’t look back
(listen here)
the secret history, donna tartt
the scorpio races by maggie stiefvater
did no-one tell him that pain lives in this sand, dug in and watered with our blood?
Sylvia Plath // The Jailer
Glow Blog
When I was growing up, there were these news stories that kept popping up in my life about children who would get swept out to sea, and the parents would dive in after them. I’d seen these news stories crop up again and again, and it made me think of this idea of the sea being this entity that needs a sacrifice—like, if it’s going to take your children, then you have to give yourself. It got me thinking about the power of water, like in Virginia Woolf, and that sense of really being overwhelmed by something. I also remembered this idea, I think from a childhood story, about a river that has to have someone drowned in it before you can cross it—like, if you see a river running smoothly, it’s because someone has drowned in it, and if it’s raging, it means that it’s still got bloodlust … It’s all very morbid. My dad always gets asked at parties, “What did you do to her?”
I have another friend who gets what I’m really like, and I get her. She scares me.
Now isn’t the time to change yourself to fit into the world. You should be changing the world to accept you. To let you exist as you are, without being cut open and damaged.
dictionary poem ix by mica k
starameter thanks for the suggestion!
savage saint
“She closed her eyes, dark-lidded, dark shadows beneath them; she really was older, not the glancing-eyed girl I had fallen in love with but no less beautiful for that; beautiful now in a way that less excited my senses than tore at my very heart.”
listen
Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god.
Aristotle (via daughter-of-odin)
– it’s lucky for me that i’m not alone.
photography by natalia drepina
