— Clementine Von Radics, from In A Dream You Saw A Way To Survive; "The Fear" (via lunamonchtuna)
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
The Bowery Presents
Not today Justin
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Monterey Bay Aquarium

blake kathryn

Origami Around
One Nice Bug Per Day
No title available

ellievsbear

tannertan36
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Keni
No title available

Kiana Khansmith

No title available

izzy's playlists!
$LAYYYTER

No title available
todays bird
seen from Italy
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Brunei
seen from Tunisia
seen from Tunisia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Uzbekistan

seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from Italy
seen from Sri Lanka
seen from United States

seen from Italy

seen from Germany
seen from India
seen from Germany

seen from Philippines
@stickydoughtwist18
— Clementine Von Radics, from In A Dream You Saw A Way To Survive; "The Fear" (via lunamonchtuna)
REBLOG IF IT IS OKAY TO COME INTO YOUR INBOX AND SAY THE RANDOMEST SHIT I CAN THINK OF BECAUSE I REALLY WANT TO INTERACT WITH YOU.
i love getting messages sm 🥺
omds getting random messages is so fun
Julia de Burgos, from a poem titled "That You Love Me," featured in Song of the Simple Truth: Poems
my eyes will always be heart eyed for you
"My eyes will always be heart-eyed for you," I said.
"Don't 🥺," you replied, softly, as if you were trying to save me from something we both already knew.
Too late.
The truth is, I never chose this.
I didn't decide to look for you in crowded rooms, or smile at your name, or carry your words home with me.
My heart learned you before my mind could stop it.
So when you say "don't," I understand.
You're not being cruel. You're just standing at the edge of a place I can't follow.
But some things happen quietly, without permission.
A flower turns toward the sun. The tide returns to shore. And my eyes, every time they find you, become hearts.
Too late.
Not because I expect you to love me back.
Just because I already do.
🌿come sit under the mango tree for a while
girl returns to an indian village
there is a mango tree
there is chai
there are aunties who know everyone's business
there are children running around barefoot
there is a man who is definitely going to become a problem
there are feelings
many feelings
anyway i wrote a cozy slow-burn romance 🌿ðŸ¥â˜• so excited to share the first chapter of my novel with yall! It's not long so do read it and let me know how you like it! <3
chapter 1: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QWqv6_rUVlMyQGN24H3NSccuM4sGUY8_COiAHxbvn8Q/edit?usp=sharing
Juliet: Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Romeo: I’m right here, Juliet..? Juliet: ‘Wherefore’ means ‘why,’ not ‘where.’ Romeo: Misunderstandings like these are what define our relationship.
i was thinking to post this mini novel i wrote. anyone wan read? Chapter 1 out now: BENEATH THE MANGO TREE - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QWqv6_rUVlMyQGN24H3NSccuM4sGUY8_COiAHxbvn8Q/edit?usp=sharing
like a folded letter
she was never the loudest person in the room,
but somehow people remembered her.
not because she demanded attention, but because she paid attention.
to the way the sky looked when it couldn't decide whether to rain or not.
to the pauses between words.
to the things people laughed off when they actually meant them.
she carried her heart like a folded letter—
not hidden, just not handed out to everyone.
there was a softness to her that the world rarely noticed at first.
the kind that survives disappointment.
the kind that stays kind even after learning that kindness is not always returned.
she loved deeply, thought endlessly, and felt more than she admitted.
sometimes she mistook that tenderness for weakness.
it never was.
it was the reason she could find beauty where others found nothing at all.
she was the sort of person who kept pieces of people with her—
a sentence, a smile, a moment that lasted only seconds.
and years later she would still remember.
not because she was unable to let go,
but because she understood that some things are worth carrying.
if you asked her what she wanted from life,
she might not have known how to answer.
but if you watched carefully,
you would have seen it.
she wanted connection that felt effortless.
she wanted to be understood without having to explain herself twice.
she wanted a place where she could arrive exactly as she was and never have to become smaller.
and perhaps that is why the people who truly knew her loved her quietly.
because she was never trying to be extraordinary.
she was simply herself.
and somehow,
that was extraordinary enough.