they call me the endurer the way i endure and endure and endure and endure and well u get it
trying on a metaphor

oozey mess
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
dirt enthusiast
we're not kids anymore.
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
DEAR READER
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Kiana Khansmith
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Misplaced Lens Cap

Origami Around
Jules of Nature

roma★
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Peter Solarz

Andulka
Xuebing Du
art blog(derogatory)
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@showmethefries
they call me the endurer the way i endure and endure and endure and endure and well u get it
hold on i have to do everything
Franz Kafka, 1912
ok guys but imagine how hard it's gonna hit if something good ever happens again
I hope this spring is kind to us, I hope we heal and bloom
I feel a sliver of sun on my skin and get the urge to tell anyone and everyone that I love them
"Since i met you, I've felt abandoned without your nearness; your nearness is all i ever dream of, the only thing."
-- Franz Kafka, The Castle
The lion lowkey concerns himself a little bit
we need to find the beating heart of The Job Market and we need to plunge a holy gleaming blade into it. its the only way to be free
there is a lover girl inside me behind a thick wall of cynicism and trust issues
can you tell i missed out on smth fundamental in my formative years 😏
sometimes i believe that love is coming for me eventually. that it's just waiting until i finish becoming myself. other times, i am certain i was made to be alone forever, that i will never witness the kind of love i have always ached for.
sometimes i think i am meant to bleed out in the snow. no warmth, no hands, no reason. just white silence and the body giving up. i tell myself i have to be okay with it either way. i try not to linger on what i can’t control.
so here i am, i guess. letting go. not abandoning the idea of love; just handing it back to the universe like something too heavy to keep holding. maybe i will be loved someday. maybe i will die alone. i think i have reached the point in my life where both feel survivable.
as if i am even ready for love at all. maybe the universe knows that. maybe that's why everything feels so still. i wouldn't know how to hold the very thing i ache for in my own shaking hands.
that's the devastating part: not that i don't have it, but that i might someday. that it could be real. because if it is, it only confirms the universe's cruelty: that i spent two decades consecrating my loneliness, making peace with the idea that i was meant to be alone forever, carrying the eternal wound of a mother and the voices that taught me this was my destiny. and it is only now (if ever) that i am deserving?
i don't know how to forgive the time it took to arrive here.
lone-pine-poetry, Blood-On-Snow (01.04.26)
so it truly does hit you on a random december afternoon how much life has changed since last year
in 6 months it will be summer again and life will be so much better
they should invent someone who loves me
they need to start making clothes out of material that can clean glasses well again