are you okay?
no

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
No title available
Show & Tell

No title available
Keni

Kiana Khansmith
almost home
h
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
official daine visual archive
KIROKAZE

pixel skylines
Sade Olutola

No title available

shark vs the universe

JVL
occasionally subtle
cherry valley forever

izzy's playlists!

oozey mess
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Vietnam

seen from Vietnam

seen from United States

seen from Kyrgyzstan
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from France

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from India

seen from Mexico

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
@teastainedjournal
are you okay?
no
Put a secret in my ask box
in the Çavdarhisar district of Kütahya province, a marble portrait of Aphrodite has been discovered under the direction of Prof. Dr. Gökhan Coşkun from Dumlupınar University,
Bonnieux Antique Shop
Details from Mayhem’s album Daemon (2019) Artwork by Daniele Valeriani
The Penitent Magdalen, oil on canvas, detail (1640)
Georges de La Tour
the drama, the shock, the revelation, of Elizabeth waltzing into her house at the crack of dawn with a visibly disheveled Mr. Darcy (chest fully out) UNCHAPERONED, and being like “He’s asking Papa for my hand in marriage 🥰” when her entire family thought she loathed him with every fiber of her being will never be matched
Theodor von der Beek (1838 - 1921) - Ophelia
Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Mary Bowles (about December 1858)
Simone de Beauvoir ― The Woman Destroyed
‘Moribund’
F22 Photography
Tumblr should add polls so I can force my followers to make all my major live decisions for me
the internet is an inherently haunted place if you think about it like. it's so weird to see long abandoned discussion boards stuck in a snapshot of the past, old conversations between kids from over a decade ago who have now grown into their own lives, obituaries taking the form of half finished profiles. and the silence that fills the gaps between. there's a constant ghostly record of each generation's thoughts, fads, their sense of humour. back when the future was at their fingertips. even stranger, people you used to know exist openly in that space, and they watch you watching them. if you want, deceased musicians can play through your headphones. there's always an underlying sense of reminiscing and time escaping our ever shortening attention spans. what a fuckin graveyard
You are right but holy jesus mother of fuck