ugh, pls, no.

ella )( 24 brainless boneless heartless; a moon jellyfish in a sea of stars ~creepy siren slacker trash~

[666sweetie]

these colors will never stop amazing me

[coffeeandshit]

Colourful cacti. Apparently there is a flower shop with a greenhouse just for cacti🌵🌸

[newyorker]

On Jorge Luis Borges’s birthday, revisit his poem “A Dream,” published in 2009. 

[michaelbrunt-blog]

[fy-perspectives]

[wordsnquotes]

How Strange..

[yslgirl-deactivated20180528]

[bastilleintheden]

[aesthet1c-b1tch]

[penabranca-deactivated20230916]

Meiodia

©Penabranca 

[lifeinpoetry]

i want to implode— i want to (un)become

George Abraham, from “self-portrait as melting clock,” published in Diode (via baeronism)

[mandalym-deactivated20200806]

mogu takahashi

[nettlecottage-deactivated201908]

Inch Island, Donegal, Ireland Photo by James Whorriskey (Delbert Jackson) on Flickr

[roseiaghost-deactivated20220105]

enjoy these two bats in love on the first day of spring!!

[save-the-bats]

Happy First Day of Spring!

[xbunnyclawsx]

[thelovejournals]

…At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined…

Pablo Neruda, Rain (Rapa Nui)  (via thelovejournals)

[painstation-deactivated20181026]

[lord-kitschener]

Cryptid

[hotcommunist-deactivated2019032]

Every pixel of this image is filled with a protective energy. Reblog the shadow cat cryptid for good fortune and to receive glowing eyes.

[ninapedia]

Thick hair gothic

The pillow is wet when you wake up. Your hair is still drying. It’s always drying. You washed it 3 days ago and need to wash it again soon. It’s still drying.

All the hair balls in your room seemed to have moved into one corner on their own. You don’t know where they’ve come from or how they keep growing. They feed on each other. Soon it’ll be too big for you to escape.

You comb your fingers through your hair only to pull out a clump of hair. You do it again and another clump comes with it. You do this several times with the same result, but the number of hairs on your head is both constant and infinite. 

“At least I’ll be warm in the winter.” You reassure yourself as the sun beats down on your head. Your scalp is melting off, every journey outside is a mistake. The winter will never come.

[barlowstreet]

Winter comes. Your hair is still drying and it freezes solid.