Three Goblin Art

Discoholic 🪩

@theartofmadeline
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

izzy's playlists!

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Andulka
Not today Justin
$LAYYYTER
tumblr dot com

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Mike Driver
trying on a metaphor
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JVL
hello vonnie
Stranger Things
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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taylor price
seen from Pakistan
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom

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

seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Russia

seen from Barbados

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from China
seen from Spain

seen from United States
@versified-ocean
The nuances of the earth collide in countless forms, smells, textures, and colors. Light lingers and slips through invisible passages of air, in crevices of leaves, in the transparency of the soul of everything that moves.
– v.
°❀⋆.ೃ
Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is clean your room, open the window, and let the air move again. Energy needs circulation just like lungs do.
“Once water lilies floated on this pool. Now they are gone, only their phantoms sigh,”
— Marya Zaturenska, from Water Lilies: A Nocturne; The Collected Poems of M. Zaturenska
Wislawa Szymborska, from "Tortures," featured in Map: Collected and Last Poems
Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to G.H.
"He had not said 'I love you'; but he held her hand. Happiness is this, is this, he thought."
Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway
Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
Fernando Pessoa, from The Book of Disquiet
Text ID: By thinking so much, I became echo and abyss. By delving within, I made myself into many.
It is immediately clear that Sylvia Plath had a 'divided self'. Throughout her work there are images of selves which are petrified, cracked, automaton, patched up, and divided against themselves. Perhaps one of the most characteristic is the double self in In Plaster in which the real body-self inside the plaster cast is the 'tenant', and without whom the outer self would 'perish with emptiness'. [. . .] The tenant in her dividual self at times seems only to bloom 'out of her as a rose/Blooms out of a vase of not very valuable porcelain...'—and this theme of inner worthlessness is often struck, as she searches within herself for substantiality, sometimes finding only the vacuum at the heart of a tornado.
David Holbrook, Sylvia Plath: Poetry and Existence
Elephant hawk moth ୧
feeling very haunted by the lives i'm not living. time for coffee
Mossy rocks in August sun, Sweden.
The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien