Cradle the dust , tender the rust, plateau the trust, graceful the combust.

Kaledo Art
wallacepolsom
Xuebing Du
$LAYYYTER
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
hello vonnie
Sade Olutola

Andulka

shark vs the universe
occasionally subtle
trying on a metaphor
Show & Tell
we're not kids anymore.

Kiana Khansmith

blake kathryn

No title available

oozey mess

@theartofmadeline
almost home

Janaina Medeiros

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Pakistan

seen from Sweden
seen from Brazil

seen from United States
seen from India
seen from Ukraine
seen from India
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seen from Tunisia
seen from Jamaica
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@thetreeoflife90
Cradle the dust , tender the rust, plateau the trust, graceful the combust.
I don’t want to turn the clocks
Just want the grains to go in reverse
I know that surprises give those shocks
At least we got to experience the verse
I truly don’t have to say much on this blank canvas but despite being filled with so much positivity there is a lingering emptiness and a dark grey daze I get myself involved with that I only find in when reflecting.... a torture of inspiration and the willingness to procrastinate and a what else I could be somewhere worse than I am now and have to be existentialist as I know the trenches I dug deep will also consume me since I don’t know any better I think how letting go can trail on and on and on making me feel like a cascade in reverse trying to understand origin
Seed
Your just as a seed in its entirety throughout existence as the roots will spread out and the branches will expand it will only become a tree and reach for the skies above yet all could wither with harsh winters oh the leaves crack off to a fall on the ground where we belong; such as a seed to start out over with persuasive purposeful properties" We never stop learning
Reblog if you play an instrument or sing
I wanna see how many musicians are on tumblr!
we are not alone
"day by day for some with a repetitive routine and a cozy little bubble to retreat to after completing what is fit to them for proper rest and inhabitance. others like me its second by second that counts and in that time breaking routines and ditching comforting bubbles defines what I do and there is nothing fit for me to inhabit since I am always in a state of traveling motion. don't be limited to surroundings that give you placement physically. mentally only from within you can exert actions to reverse thoughts of limitation to become boundless and don't forget in that rise for yourself you can always inspire others for they can make the decision themselves to rise from their own bounds. with a selfish desire of going the opposite way; you aren't the only one who chooses the different path from the norm... selflessness can also be reached by showing others you can unite together and travel the opposite road as one." -self
While I was on the terrain
I knew the decision I had to make My loyalty felt undermined And truth is face to face we can't fake Constant constraint to what is timed I know where the sun in my heart lies I saw where the moon of the mind was Ropes of voyages are severed ties Moving on is a cost but has a cause
He is a stem, a husk, barren and thin, withered by sun, erased by wind, emptied by seasons of dullness, marked by seconds of duty, scarred by regrets only the faintest of lines dare to write out, which no one, not even him, can interpret anymore.
Mark Z. Danielewski, The Familiar, Vol. 1: One Rainy Day in May (via thin-cities)
Have no fear, you will find your way. It’s in your bones. It’s in your soul.
Mark Z. Danielewski (via wordsnquotes)
For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You’ll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you’ll realize it’s always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won’t understand why or how.
Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves (via teenager90s)
itunes - http://smarturl.it/NeonIndianAnnie "Annie" Neon Indian © & ℗ Static Tongues and Mom & Pop records 2015 www.neonindian.com
Recent additions to my personal collection: spirit quartz, flourite, black tourmaline, and smoky quartz. All are from Southern California except the spirit quartz, which is from South Africa.
Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour. You do not work, you do not read, you do not daydream. If you sleep it is not because you need to sleep. And when at last it is over, there is no evidence: no weapon, no blood, and no body. The only clue might be the shadows beneath your eyes or a terribly thin line near the corner of your mouth indicating something has been suffered, that in the privacy of your life you have lost something and the loss is too empty to share.
Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves (via honeyforthehomeless)
Myth makes Echo the subject of longing and desire. Physics makes Echo the subject of distance and design. Where emotion and reason are concerned both claims are accurate. And where there is no Echo there is no description of space or love. There is only silence.
Mark Z. Danielewski, “House of Leaves” (via lifeinpoetry)