mark my words
redbubble / trans flag version
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

izzy's playlists!

if i look back, i am lost
Show & Tell
i don't do bad sauce passes
Misplaced Lens Cap
No title available
Three Goblin Art
noise dept.

blake kathryn
Mike Driver
occasionally subtle
Xuebing Du

No title available
will byers stan first human second
Stranger Things
h
taylor price

Product Placement
Peter Solarz
seen from United States

seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Argentina

seen from Türkiye
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Türkiye
seen from Chile
seen from Netherlands

seen from Türkiye

seen from Netherlands
seen from Germany
@schnapskuessen
mark my words
redbubble / trans flag version
hey bro can i ask you a question that will reveal a deep and fundamental gap in my knowledge of the world
of course bro opening up about your lack of knowledge and asking questions is the only way to fill in that fundamental gap
This right here is exactly what I wish every person trying to talk to me, a guy whose dad died a month ago, would enact in conversation. We burden ourselves with such an unrealistic set of expectations for speaking to and about grief. We want “the right thing to say,” but actually external answers aren’t what’s needed. Grief is the soup. I’m in the soup. Get in the fucking pot with me let’s simmer.
“I can’t imagine—“ SHH. You don’t need to. Ask me. Ask me what I’m noticing. Ask me what it feels like. Ask about his voice, his habits, his hands. If you are curious about death, ask. If you have questions that seem inappropriate, no they aren’t. Let’s find out together. Because I certainly have no idea what I’m doing. I had one dad and he died and that has never happened to me before and will never happen again and I’m starting to walk down the road of holding that grief for the rest of my days.
There are no answers, only questions, and asking each other questions is one of the most beautiful and fundamentally human things we can do.
Grief in particular is one a lot of people are scared to talk about, scared to get wrong. I, a widowed person, swear it's ok to just say "Wow, that fucking sucks. Do you want to talk about it (grief) or them (the person who died)?"
It’s strange to think that long before I had a name or a heartbeat, I existed in some shadowed, elemental way. Women are born with all the eggs they'll ever have, and these begin forming while they're still in the womb. So when my mother was just a fetus, the egg that would become me was already inside her. That means my grandmother carried not just my mother, but the beginning of me as well. For a fleeting moment, the three of use shared one body, and went through life together, layered like nesting dolls.
hater for hire. if you need someone to hate on anything i'm your guy. i'll hate on anything for next to no reason and i just do it for the love of the game. which i hate
Und jetzt habe ich das beste Kind der Welt, aber egal wie viel ich mit ihm angebe, Mama, dass du ihn kennenlernen könntest wäre das was zählt.
It’s always wyd and not “lemme eat you out from the back until you can’t think straight and are begging me to fuck a baby in you”
ok but sitting on someone's lap and giving them kisses all over their face will always be superior 😔
I'd like 2 issue a collective round of applause for the following;
Tummy pouch👏👏👏👏👏👏👏
Thigh crease👏👏👏👏👏👏
Stretch marks👏👏👏👏👏👏👏
Cellulite 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏
Body hair👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏
Dips👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏
Rolls👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏
Literally any kind of body👏👏👏👏
Look at that body👏👏👏👏👏👏
You are👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏
*chefs kiss*👏👏👏👏👏
“In the end all you’ll ever have is yourself.”
— Don’t forget that. (via liebeficktunsalle)
its so stupid how the tiniest shit can break my heart & ruin my mood i literally didnt ask to be this sensitive
me getting my heart ripped out of my chest: okay first off, mood,