I hate the "Oh ur posting without tags? how is anyone supposed to find ur post🥺" warning shit tumblr does now. the hand of god will deliver me unto others

oozey mess

if i look back, i am lost
almost home

★

ellievsbear
Sweet Seals For You, Always
RMH
One Nice Bug Per Day

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
noise dept.
Monterey Bay Aquarium
sheepfilms
Misplaced Lens Cap
AnasAbdin
$LAYYYTER

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

pixel skylines

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@thelittlebitsofhappiness
I hate the "Oh ur posting without tags? how is anyone supposed to find ur post🥺" warning shit tumblr does now. the hand of god will deliver me unto others
your minimalist child getting destroyed by my baroque baby
René Magritte, The Survivor, 1950
“I found out I was in love with you, winter before last,” she said. “I wasn’t going to say anything about it because - well, you know. If you felt anything like that for me, you’d have known I did. But it wasn’t both of us. So there was no good in it. But then, when you told us you’re leaving… At first I thought, all the more reason to say nothing. But then I thought, that wouldn’t be fair. To me, partly. Love has a right to be spoken. And you have a right to know that somebody loves you. That somebody has loved you, could love you. We all need to know that. Maybe it’s what we need most.”
- A Fisherman of the inland sea, Ursula K. Leguin
What's that poem about the cockroach and the moth where the cockroach is like "I wish I've ever wanted anything the way that moth wanted to burn itself up in that lantern" because we had to read that in high school and it still fucks me up to this day
Ok I found it it's called "the lesson of the moth by archy" and it's by Don Marquis
caving as an extreme sport is sooo unfathomable to me why are u as a creature of the daylight doing that. were u born without the dread in ur bones or something
come 9 year olds let us sleep in the hell fissures where time goes to suffocate
No— it was the sort of seeing that unfastens the lacrimae rerum, tears of things. We drowned, not knowing we stood in water.
— Maya C. Popa, from "The Tears of Things," Wound Is the Origin of Wonder
once again thinking about composition thinking about lines thinking about the power of diagonal lines in particular. the dynamicity the energy the pathos. the tenderness and tragedy of a continuous diagonal vs the violence of interrupted or intersecting ones
hope this helps
What do you say you have a look at this? Tell me what you see.
A light in the darkness.
A bearded man.
A mushroom cloud.
A head on a pillow.
Installs this mod on your post
my favorite lines from this article about poetry from students grades 3-6
The Plaque Series
The concept art of Jenny Holzer.
i love paintings that look as if they have ghosts in them
this painting by andrew wyeth has got SO many ghosts in it. most andrew wyeth paintings have ghosts in, but this is off the scale!
this painting by dragan bibin has only one ghost as far as i can tell, but it's a really scary ghost (the dog thinks so too)
this painting by meraud guevara looks very peaceful, but unfortunately it has a ghost in it. i can't tell you where, but it does
you might think you can see the ghosts in this dorothea tanning painting, but you're wrong. the little girls are just ordinary girls. the actual ghost is behind one of those doors.
marvin cone. for fucks sake just look at it
what never fails to make me cry are ancient toys
someone made these for a child so they could have fun. that’s its only purpose.
generally not super into shapeshifter characters being revealed to have like a singular True Form. isnt it much more interesting to imagine a creature so fluid and ever-changing that even they cant identify any one body as the "true" self, or simply dont see the need to?
is this you? yes. this one too? yes. but then which one is the real you? define "real" define "you" theyre all me. even the ones that are someone else? especially those.
tip: everything you pretend to becomes a part of what you are and even the facade you wear for the sake of deception reveals a crucial truth.
also: the self is a multi-faceted, ever-shifting thing
He's more myself than I am ,whatever our souls are made up of , his and mine are the same
-Wuthering heights, Emily bronte
Adam Fuss - The space between garden and eve
Would you like to find out what you would be the god of? Take my new uqiz to find out