[hachama]

[girlrustcohle]

fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this

[ifeltfree]

i need everyone to see the funniest fucking pigeon rescue in the world

[ifeltfree]

[5000letters]

I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’

Azra.T “My Heart is Full of Open Windows.” (via 5000letters)

[raingurl99]

[teamrocketgender]

[anancientheart]

life is still unfolding. let it surprise you. don’t be stubborn for too long.

[revolvver]

[queenmoriarty]

Blue skies

they turn to grey

Black sunsets in your eyes,

am I dreaming?

[portraits-of-iris]

Ul de Rico

[lost-moonlight]

[depsidase]

[heavyrain-dc]

“Today I forgive myself. Not just once. Again, and again, and again. As many times as it takes to find peace.”

— Unknown

[gerardpilled]

[bubblebaath]

nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom

[lissar-deactivated20220127]

this poem has been haunting me!

[firstfullmoon]

I wear your ring every day and I feel strange without it but I still don’t call it mine. I think I feel similarly about your loss. I stare at grief and try to call it mine, then feel terrible, then selfish. I stare at your grave and try to pray, then wonder what kind of grief prayer is.  Maybe I should just tell you this. Your son will be getting on a flight tomorrow to go back to an island. He tries his best not to feel lonely without you and I am always, stupidly, trying to love him for you. It is always wrong but never is. I am wearing a necklace your husband gave me for my twenty-first birthday. He emptied your drawers within a week of your passing but hasn’t moved your purse from its place on the shelf since the day we took you to the hospital. I am trying to love them both but I am very bad at it. I am trying to use my whole heart but I am very bad at that too. I wrote this after all. Long-winded, long, winding way of using almost blinding sunsets and grown golden barley just to say, I think of you so often. We miss you so much. 

— Sanna Wani, from “My Grief, the Sun,” in My Grief, the Sun