wallacepolsom
todays bird
Kiana Khansmith
One Nice Bug Per Day
š©µ avery cochrane š©µ
š
Mike Driver
macklin celebrini has autism
izzy's playlists!
trying on a metaphor
sheepfilms
Jules of Nature
cherry valley forever
JVL
Monterey Bay Aquarium
No title available
official daine visual archive
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
seen from Russia
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from United States
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@theburningside
blogān
to those of you who follow me...
I wanted to officially announce that I have created a website (blog) where I will be doing the majority of my posting. Ā Trying to be a little more grown up about this whole internet thing. Ā There will always be a special place for Tumblr in my heart though! And I will occasionally still get on here and post. Ā Hey, not like anyone actually reads my shit anyway haha but here it is!!
www.thecapriquarius.com
:)
xoxo
Sabine Hornig
Verliefd stel langs de Seine, Parijs / Infatuated couple along the Seine, Paris, 1950ās, Kees Scherer. Dutch (1920 - 1993)
deep
sadnessĀ
you know, that hole in the pit of your stomach,
that tells you thereās something missing.
one thing, perhaps.
but an important thing,
something you cant fake,
something you cant fix.
why is there always that one thing?
and a deep, sick longing for travel.
for trees, and grass, and dew drops.
for the countryside.
but not to visit.
to stay for awhile.
to stay until you long for somewhere else,
somewhere distant yet familiar.
nostalgia pulling at your soul,
until youāre weak with discontent.
another thing missing
you cannnot get back.
nature / foggy
you n me 4ever
Just finished the book Fear of Flying. Thereās a chapter where she talks about her first husband, how he goes crazy, and she eventually decides to leave him. And I just thought how accurate this last paragraph was to my own situation with leaving my husband, and just being a woman in general. So here it is.
āIt was a dilemma: if I stuck by him and tried to live with him again, Iād go crazy, or at the very least give up most of my own identity. But if I left him alone, I was abandoning him- just when he needed me the most. In a sense, I was a traitor. It had come down to a choice between me or him, and I chose me. My guilt about this haunts me still. Somewhere deep inside my head is some glorious image of the ideal woman, a kind of Jewish Griselda. She is Ruth and Esther and Jesus and Mary rolled into one. She always turns the other cheek. She is a vehicle, a vessel, with no needs or desires of her own. When her husband beats her, she understands him. When he is sick, she nurses him. When the children are sick, she nurses them. She cooks, keeps house, runs the store, keeps the books, listens to everyoneās problems, visits the cemetery, weeds the graves, plants the garden, scrubs the floors, and sits quietly on the upper balcony of the synagogue while the men recite prayers about the inferiority of women. She is capable of absolutely everything except self preservation. And secretly, I am always ashamed of myself for not being her. A good woman would have given over her life to the care and feeding of her husbands madness. I was not a good woman. I had too many other things to do.ā
UGH.
