Canny Glasgow (1887) by John Atkinson Grimshaw
YOU ARE THE REASON
Mike Driver
Not today Justin

tannertan36
Peter Solarz
we're not kids anymore.
Today's Document
noise dept.
ojovivo
No title available

if i look back, i am lost
Claire Keane
Keni
Sweet Seals For You, Always
One Nice Bug Per Day
Game of Thrones Daily
Acquired Stardust
AnasAbdin
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Monterey Bay Aquarium

seen from Malaysia
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Canny Glasgow (1887) by John Atkinson Grimshaw
'The Three Fates' by Alexander Rothaug, 1910
Maxfield Parrish - "The Young King of the Black Isles" (1909)
Bothersome beast, comforting friend
Clarice Lispector, from a letter to Fernando Sabino featured in Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector
It’s funny how sacabambaspis is like the funniest looking animal in every hypothetical except for that one picture that makes me feel like I’m about to be killed
by Jeff Stanford, 2024 (Midjourney)
Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry featured in “The Selected Diaries of Virginia Woolf,”
“No, I’m not ok. But I haven’t been ok since I was 11, maybe 12. I am still here though. I’m still breathing. For me, sometimes, that will have to be enough.”
— Clementine von Radics
Isn’t it strange?
One comes after the other.
I found the face of my first lover,
And after that it follows the last.
Is this a way to ask me if I prefer the last one or the oldest?
As the smoke snitching on the fire,
Your pure soul shows me what it comes after you,
And the cicle of pain begins,
Should I play again this game?
Is God giving me a chance to try once more?
Or my ado just enjoys watching me choose
The wrong boy over and over again?
As a trans woman I can confirm that they indeed found an ancient forest inside a 630ft deep sinkhole in China
cis people can reblog this but keep it on subject, please
Happy pride month everyone always remember that the sinkhole has an ecosystem large enough to house not only insects but likely several species of small birds or mammals
Its helping with the cleaning
Why life feels so wrong?
Is my body acknowledging how much should I miss what was once mine?
I’m sick of watching and whiteness that everything that was mine is now someone else’s.
But every time I see backwards, I see nostalgia and pain, burden of what could have been and what never will.
Count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.
Sophocles, Oedipus rex.