acquiesce

tell me Atlas, what is heavier, the world or it's peoples hearts ? Lisa. 22. foolish european girl. mediocre and mentally too unstable to decide for one fandom. be prepared.

[sadmortician]

Don’t give up on me yet

[psikonauti]

Lisa Wright (British, b. 1965)

Beneath the Strangeness of it, 2020

Oil on canvas

[m00wd]

I've been alone for so long that I don't know how not to be.

—M00wd

[somewordsarebiggerthanothers]

[irishangeleyes2nd]

Undoubtedly, assuredly YES!

[peindreensamusant]

[nixscriptum]

[lelif]

on dreams

we should be well prepared, mary oliver// ? // every breath you take, the police// - //I had a dream about you, richard siken// freaks, surf curse// - // ? // @stardial // dreaming of you, cigarettes after sex // anyone who had a heart, dionne warwick// edited version of "borrowed love poems", john yau// sad, beautiful, tragic, taylor swift// ?

[how-to-be-a-tree-deactivated202]

"No one wants to go to a funeral"

We were liars (2025) S1E3

[swiftsuburbanlegends]

So like anyone wanna talk about how Cady cut her hair short like Mirren did, dyed it dark like Gat, and started having more of an attitude like Johnny... almost like part of her was trying to bring her liars back to her piece by piece.....

[65mpg]

Forever a "I understand" with a constant heavy heart.

[ruhaniya]

How do you heal when the damage feels like home?

[naushin-zaidi]

I've never known love. But I've seen it. Often, I think. Fleeting and half-lit, like fireflies caught between shadows; like candles, flickering with a warm glow. In hands reaching for each other in a crowd, in fingers that tangle absent-mindedly. In the hair that spills over pillows. In smiles exchanged softly, words left unspoken. In the way she laughs into his shoulder like she is finally home; in the way he glances at her when he thinks no one is looking. Love is everywhere, threaded between strangers. I move through it like a phantom, a lone figure before dawn, barefoot, breath held, watching the threads weave a tapestry that shimmers all around me in the pale moonlight. I've never known love. But I dream of it often. Not the soft, candlelit kind. Not the quiet camaraderie. Not the comfort of forever. Something untamed, uncontrollable. Something that doesn't ask for permission. A wildfire, that ravenously consumes everything in its path, setting fire to parts I've kept hidden for too long. The chaos that slams into you like a tidal wave, sinfully passionate, demanding to be felt; the kind that leaves you breathless, even if it doesn't last. The blade that carves its name into the walls of my ribs and refuses to leave, lingering like a curse. Feral enough to ruin me. Soft enough to save me. Incandescent. Ethereal. Euphoric. I've never known love. But maybe this is enough. To ache like this. To forever keep yearning for it, like reaching for a silhouette at the end of a hallway, turning the corner just before I can catch up.

[weltenwellen]

Nicole W. Lee, from "Even the Dust"

[bnmxfld]

I have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there.

Markus Zusak / The Book Thief

[contagiousgrace]

it's not that I need a quiet day or a day off exactly; it's that I need a pocket of time that exists entirely outside of linear time as we know it that would allow me to get things done without time passing in the real world, and frankly, I don't think that's too much to ask.

[the-enchanted-little-star]

[expressions-of-nature]

Río Lasifashaj, Argentina by Deensel