Untitled

[the-dying-wind]

I NEED A WIFE

I need a wife, and two puppies. They sould be willing to move to some place far away in the middle of no where, lots of trees around, a river, we could farm or write books together. Lots of love.

(do you get the idea, i cant put it in words sorry)

[headspace-hotel]

I’m no longer satisfied by the explanation that there is no correlation between great art and great pain. I think that Vincent Van Gogh deserved to feel better and to be happy, and I think that he would have gone on to create many more beautiful paintings. But I take comfort in the idea that his art was about survival, that every beautiful thing he created was an affirmative commentary on the question, “Why live?”

The world hurts so goddamn much and I am so sorry. I don’t think pain makes artists great and I think that great artists got that way because they worked for it, but when I say that I mean they wrestled for the things they bring to light in their art, grabbing on tight to the miraculousness of light and sunflowers and living like they were drowning, because they were. And I mean that Van Gogh’s paintings all feel like they’re trying to save my life. This is beautiful, and it’s important. Beauty is important. Life is important. Light is important, and irises are important, and the color yellow is important, are you listening to me?

Pain doesn’t make artists great, but I think great art is always trying to respond to the question how can we stay alive? I think that’s an important distinction.

Depression will rot your soul in a way that will make you forget what beauty is and how to see it. When I was 17, I made a list of reasons to live, and it was like wading through deep mud. It fought me with every step. That heavy, aching numbness. It felt exhausting to write them down. Fireflies. The kindness of strangers. Libraries. Small birds. And if you understand the feeling I describe, you know that if you want to survive, you must become someone who sharply experiences the goodness of life. You have to dig your fingernails into it and drag it out of its hiding places around you.

This is about survival. Like when I say that this is great art, I mean that you can tell that there is something that is so so so important here, and that important thing is something like look, existence is beautiful. I can wish that Van Gogh had a chance to live a much longer, happier life, and at the same time be...cognizant? grateful? that his work doesn’t communicate Today I will paint cypresses but instead Today the world is beautiful, and I will live in it, and I will show you.

I don’t know how I got on this topic or why I’m so emotional. I can’t even tell most of the people that have saved my life; they are long gone. Thank you. For showing me.

[the-dying-wind]

I need friend

[swarnpert]

flies will literally get swatted at and think "maybe he still wants to hang out with me"

[startrekrenegades]

my interests include putting blankets on sleeping animals just in case they’re cold

[frogginbloggin]

you guys sure like frogs, huh

[frognonbinary-deactivated202412]

its illegal not to, actually

[horseshoecrabluvrr]

JUST LOOK AT HIM

[frogginbloggin]

he’s so sweet………… sweet man………………..

[headspace-hotel]

I’m no longer satisfied by the explanation that there is no correlation between great art and great pain. I think that Vincent Van Gogh deserved to feel better and to be happy, and I think that he would have gone on to create many more beautiful paintings. But I take comfort in the idea that his art was about survival, that every beautiful thing he created was an affirmative commentary on the question, “Why live?”

The world hurts so goddamn much and I am so sorry. I don’t think pain makes artists great and I think that great artists got that way because they worked for it, but when I say that I mean they wrestled for the things they bring to light in their art, grabbing on tight to the miraculousness of light and sunflowers and living like they were drowning, because they were. And I mean that Van Gogh’s paintings all feel like they’re trying to save my life. This is beautiful, and it’s important. Beauty is important. Life is important. Light is important, and irises are important, and the color yellow is important, are you listening to me?

Pain doesn’t make artists great, but I think great art is always trying to respond to the question how can we stay alive? I think that’s an important distinction.

Depression will rot your soul in a way that will make you forget what beauty is and how to see it. When I was 17, I made a list of reasons to live, and it was like wading through deep mud. It fought me with every step. That heavy, aching numbness. It felt exhausting to write them down. Fireflies. The kindness of strangers. Libraries. Small birds. And if you understand the feeling I describe, you know that if you want to survive, you must become someone who sharply experiences the goodness of life. You have to dig your fingernails into it and drag it out of its hiding places around you.

This is about survival. Like when I say that this is great art, I mean that you can tell that there is something that is so so so important here, and that important thing is something like look, existence is beautiful. I can wish that Van Gogh had a chance to live a much longer, happier life, and at the same time be...cognizant? grateful? that his work doesn’t communicate Today I will paint cypresses but instead Today the world is beautiful, and I will live in it, and I will show you.

I don’t know how I got on this topic or why I’m so emotional. I can’t even tell most of the people that have saved my life; they are long gone. Thank you. For showing me.

[the-dying-wind]

This post is like when your thoughts are put into words, but you never realized you ever had these thoughts

Its just the best thing i have read.

Thank you for this.

[metaldinleyenpic0]

half of tumblr wants to fuck, the other half wants to die

[turninghoziest]

And then there’s the Hozier fandom that wants to do both

[dracogotgame]

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

[floatland]

me listening to hozier at 3 am: this is the closest thing i’m ever gonna get to tenderness huh

[the-dying-wind]

[bakwaaas]

is anyone else like....... exhausted? just way too tired? mentally and physically? and you look at other people your age who seem to be doing fine and you feel so dysfunctional and broken because normal adult tasks and responsibilities just feel way too overwhelming and you can’t cope and

[thenighttrain]

are you guys pro or anti mushroom

[the-dying-wind]

pro?

[litttleprincess-deactivated2017]

Don't ever hesitate. Reblog this. This should be in the tumblr laws. When you see it, REBLOG IT.

[punchlinetothejoke-deactivated2]

Depression Hotline: [phone]

Suicide Hotline: [phone]

LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255

Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386

Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743

Eating Disorders Hotline: [phone]

Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673

Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272

Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000

Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

If you ever want to talk: My tumblr ask is always open.

[turnaboutstevie]

weatherboy (derogatory)

[duskbcys-deactivated20221016]

op what does this mean

[turnaboutstevie]

wouldn't you like to know weatherboy

[the-dying-wind]

that’s beautiful.

[the-dying-wind]

I feel terrible.

[alwaleeed-deactivated20210922]

Be thankful for what you have; you'll end up having more.

[the-dying-wind]

I don't want it, please take it away.