
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
occasionally subtle
Sade Olutola

JVL
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

★
Misplaced Lens Cap
ojovivo

Andulka

izzy's playlists!
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

#extradirty
Cosimo Galluzzi
wallacepolsom
trying on a metaphor
will byers stan first human second
Today's Document

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taylor price
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seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Ukraine
seen from Ukraine

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
@vermoeidetwintiger
@academia-lucifer
@academia-lucifer
— Emily Henry; People we meet on vacation
The Fire I Cannot Extinguish
I tell myself it would be easier
to erase you completely
no contact, no trace,
silence sealed in every corner of our lives.
A clean cut,
as if love could be amputated
without leaving ghosts in the body.
But I cannot imagine a world
where our thread does not exist.
Time stretches, distance widens,
yet a part of us remains untouched,
a constant flame
that refuses to bow to years or miles.
Perhaps I should hate you.
Perhaps I should teach my heart
to curse your name,
to rewrite us as illusion,
to call it all a lie so I could walk away.
But I cannot.
Because I know it was real.
Because I know love lived here.
Because I know the place I hold in you
and the place you carved in me.
Maybe it is our fault,
both of us too human
to make impossible choices.
So instead,
I keep the fire small,
a hidden ember
that will not die in the cold.
And when we are near,
it rises into flames again,
wild and undeniable.
It would be easier to despise you.
But instead,
I will love you still,
and only despise the way I love you,
the cruelty of a universe
that built a bond so fierce
only to scatter us on opposite shores.
Gianna Rubini
Cynthia Grow ֍ Love Letters - Zelda Fitzgerald to F. Scott Fitzgerald, [c. 1919] (2025)
i carry it softly, i carry it daily, i carry it like it belongs to me, i carry it because it does.
i sunk into the theater seat, but the play never started, and the velvet arms held me tighter with every scene i did not see.