*blows dust off Tumblr*
Well then…

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Keni

JVL
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Three Goblin Art

Product Placement
art blog(derogatory)
noise dept.
styofa doing anything
trying on a metaphor

@theartofmadeline
todays bird

tannertan36

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Cosmic Funnies

Kiana Khansmith
Misplaced Lens Cap
Show & Tell

★
Stranger Things

seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from Mauritius
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Canada

seen from Spain

seen from Malaysia

seen from Indonesia

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from United States
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seen from Australia
@thebarrovian
*blows dust off Tumblr*
Well then…
“ … believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.”
Rainer Maria Rilke, from Letters to a Young Poet (W. W. Norton & Co., 1934)
Our friendship is a nebula.
- Mr Penumbra’s 24-hour Bookstore, Robin Sloan (via syllablesamok)
Something tremors deep in my chest, and I want to crack you in two like a wishbone. I want to dig my fingers into your skin and prize apart your ribcage until I can find the colour of your heart, to open you up millimetre by creaking-hinge millimetre, and follow your lifeblood as it charges to the fingertips that touched me once.
There is nothing left but words unsaid, deeds undone, and the shapes my mouth makes as I whisper your name.
“Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
(via syllablesamok)
capulus-temporibus
Everything I Have To Tell You About Love by Neil Gaiman
And you are the slow-dripping tap that may wet my tongue but will never slake my thirst.
(via syllablesamok)
Something tremors deep in my chest, and I want to crack you in two like a wishbone. I want to dig my fingers into your skin and prize apart your ribcage until I can find the colour of your heart, to open you up millimetre by creaking-hinge millimetre, and follow your lifeblood as it charges to the fingertips that touched me once.
But then,
I can carry it, this quiet, simple love. I can turn it over like a conker in my pocket, run my fingers over it to find its jagged edges, and touch only silk and promise. It does not demand that you move mountains, does not care whether you feed the flames. No singing and dancing, just a small twitch at the corner of your mouth as it fills the space that used to be your lungs.
There you are, all false sparkles behind ocean eyes, And I’m tied-tongue-tripping over just hello.
(via syllablesamok)