YOON JEONGHAN | GQ Korea x YSL February 2023

JBB: An Artblog!
Sade Olutola

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Discoholic 🪩
cherry valley forever

Andulka
todays bird
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Three Goblin Art
trying on a metaphor

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
tumblr dot com
🪼
Monterey Bay Aquarium
YOU ARE THE REASON

@theartofmadeline
ojovivo
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@rosebud-s
YOON JEONGHAN | GQ Korea x YSL February 2023
this obliterated me
Antigonick, Anne Carson
Punishment, Rabindranath Tagore (Translated by William Butler Yeats)
weight, jacqueline woodson
via
Voting as Fire Extinguisher
by Kyle Tran Myhre
When the haunted house catches fire: a moment of indecision.
The house was, after all, built on bones, and blood, and bad intentions.
Everyone who enters the house feels that overwhelming dread, the evil that perhaps only fire can purge.
It’s tempting to just let it burn.
And then I remember: there are children inside.
We were together. I forget the rest.
source: annalaura_art
I have no words today.
A reproductive rights demonstration in Pittsburgh in 1974. (Barbara Freeman/Getty Images), via The Nation.
Little Women + tweets
tarot is just a fun game until I pull the ten of swords
You are in danger too. We need a plan before we go.
LITTLE WOMEN 작은 아씨들 (2022) Episode 9
Paris vu du ciel. Photo@rbouwman74. - source Paris sera toujours Paris.
— ode to the 9,000 year old woman
Sylvia Plath // Holly Warburton // Working for the Knife, Mitski // Are You Satisfied?, MARINA // House of Hummingbird, directed by Kim Bora (2018) // Lady Bird, directed by Greta Gerwig (2017) // Tender Offerings, First Aid Kit // Play it Again, Sam directed by Woody Allen (1972) // Ruins, First Aid Kit // Ikiru, directed by Akira Kurosawa (1952) // Nightlife no. 1, Sangram Majumdar // Sorry to Myself, Alanis Morissette // Sabrina, directed by Billy Wilder (1954) // The Book of Disquiet, Fernando Pessoa (1982) // Rashomon, directed by Akira Kurosawa (1950) // It's Not, Aimee Mann // Les Animaux de Distance, Paz Boira
The complexity of being free, but forever imprisoned by the idea of not knowing what you could or should be
“As I went along through life, gradually I met people within whom I could exchange a little bit then a little bit more. And I had that same feeling with you – of speaking the same language. From the very first moment I knew we could communicate.”
— Life With Picasso, Françoise Gilot
good things will happen 🧿
things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿
THIS ONE FUCKING WORKS. REBLOG IT.
this for real fucking works
I crave a quiet love.
Watching you play video games while i lay on our bed and hyping you up. Going grocery shopping together and laughing at a bad pun in the spice aisle. Waking up in each others arms. Stopping by the others work to drop of food on our day off. Sending each other memes even though we're sitting in the same room. The soft touches whenever we pass by each other. Cuddling while watching a show on netflix. Having a cup of tee or coffee on a lazy Sunday morning and sitting, legs tangled, on our couch, being in love.
but you see her on instagram and it was never really said that you guys aren’t friends but one day she stopped answering and you stopped texting and it’s not like the wound is a cavern but it is a diagram of what if in red letters. you want to tell her nice lipstick that’s a good color but the last time you spoke it was stilted and awkward
how do you say goodbye, you know? it’s not an unfriend and block kind of situation. but you watch the people you once loved go on and have a life and you’re outside of it. and it’s bittersweet because of course it’s okay that you’re both thriving. but she used to be who you’d call if you needed to cry. she used to be who’d you’d be binge watching the new series with. you used to be hers, in a way, even if that way wasn’t permanent. and now she’s someone else and so are you and your friendship is clicking heart shapes next to pictures where she smiles next to people you’ve never met. you know where her birthmark is. she knows where you’ve buried your dead.
the poets and the singers and the authors write about romantic love when it ends. but nobody tells you how to get over a friend.