Sometimes you’re the devil in someone else’s story.
i don't do bad sauce passes
ojovivo

Kaledo Art
d e v o n
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

roma★
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Monterey Bay Aquarium
dirt enthusiast
AnasAbdin
Sade Olutola
Mike Driver
YOU ARE THE REASON
styofa doing anything

JVL

Janaina Medeiros
wallacepolsom
sheepfilms

tannertan36
Peter Solarz
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Singapore

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye

seen from Peru
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
@self-reflection
Sometimes you’re the devil in someone else’s story.
Start saving money but stop saving experiences.
People will judge you for being lonely, they think something must be wrong with you for not wanting to socialise all the time. Then you’ll q
life has no instructions.
I’m a family person without having an actual family.
Someday you will feel loved again.
I know the way they live their life isn’t how I could live mine, but they still seem to experience more of life, which I feel jelous about.
— self reflection
I miss waiting in the cold, until I get in your car. I miss having cold hands and you holding them to warm up and I wouldn’t want to be anyw
One of the most beautiful things, is looking at someone and realising how lovable that person is.
Luke Armitage
Being with you felt like sitting inside when it’s bright outside.
Mary Oliver, from “To Begin With, the Sweet Grass”, Devotions
Stop thinking that you have nothing to say
— self reflection
I miss waiting in the cold, until I get in your car. I miss having cold hands and you holding them to warm up and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but wrapped in your arms right now, my forehead touching your neck, my breath catching yours and yours catching mine. I can’t believe how used I got to the feeling of being held by you. I realized what a difference it makes when it’s not you.
— self reflection
Uprooted pages are the scars of a book. they leave a small piece of what once belonged there and let us wonder, what caused her being torn o
our passion isn’t replaceable