I’m writing a story.
And I think I’m on to something, but maybe I’m high.
But it’s mine.
taylor price

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
sheepfilms
dirt enthusiast
Sweet Seals For You, Always

JBB: An Artblog!
noise dept.
Claire Keane
NASA
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Monterey Bay Aquarium
ojovivo
KIROKAZE
almost home
No title available
Misplaced Lens Cap

titsay

izzy's playlists!
Cosmic Funnies
No title available
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States

seen from South Korea
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from China

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from Türkiye

seen from Italy

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from India

seen from Brazil
@shiny-angler
I’m writing a story.
And I think I’m on to something, but maybe I’m high.
But it’s mine.
I’m sitting in decay as my thoughts run in fear, so I shall type to break it.
What if the only way to get into a form of afterlife is to believe in gods or beings in the world and those who don’t get sentenced to nothing for they haven’t made themselves known to higher ups or there worth to stay in their realms.
A thought of many I shall ponder in agony till my end.
Love the signs of mental health growth by realizing after I get home from hanging out with friends I only feel socially tired instead of social and emotionally tired from anxiety and self dreads.
My sanity feels like it’s cracking and waning yet I look in myself and feel I can withstand a storm, I’ll probably shatter in the end.
I feel like I’m made of moss and mud, and it makes me wonder do all people have a substance they can relate their thought and feelings of existence too or is it just me.