i think of myself as a sexy, mad scientist

if i look back, i am lost
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
AnasAbdin
Today's Document
hello vonnie

roma★
Misplaced Lens Cap

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$LAYYYTER
Sade Olutola

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Three Goblin Art
ojovivo
KIROKAZE
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Stranger Things

Discoholic 🪩

Andulka
art blog(derogatory)

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@virtuousness
i think of myself as a sexy, mad scientist
connected
i love writing, i love art. i'll feel an indescribable, fleeting emotion and find that someone halfway across the world has written about it 300 years before i was born. the timeless, fleeting nature of the human experience
"I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life." -Virginia Woolf.
i think men like the idea of women
logging into an old social media account that you haven't updated in a while is genuinely like stepping into a time machine
written by kaveh akbar
thinkjng about my childhood diary and how that little girl still exists but is also gone. and how she lives within me and i lived within her. also thinking about how we are currently past versions of ourselves and therefore we are like our own little siblings. and thinking about how harsh and mean i am with myself and how i would never be so harsh with my younger sister. but… but i am my own little sister. and then i cry
La verità è come un leone. Non avrai bisogno di difenderla. Lasciala libera. Si difenderà da sola.
- Sant’Agostino -
How special!!!! That i get to love and be loved by at least one person!! One cat or one dog! My mother or a passing stranger on the train!! How special that in this lifetime i get to experience love! How wonderfully lucky!!
might screw around and become a deity existing outside the realm of space and time idk
Remembering as an act of defiance. Remembering as an act of rebellion
“They had been married seven months. They said nothing of any importance. They washed up the dishes and went to bed. In bed, they made love. Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; re-made all the time, made new. When it was made, they lay in each other’s arms, holding love, asleep.”
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven
“Write her a letter, send her a flower, love only gets old if you let it.”
— William Chapman
children’s dreams / al-yarmouk, palestinian refugee camp in damascus, syria
little palestine; diary of a siege (2021) dir. abdallah al khatib
- Sylvia Plath, from 'Ariel'
Come the Slumberless To the Land of Nod, Traci Brimhall
there’s simply not enough love in this world, i simply don’t see enough and it’s unbearable. i want to be cradled and cupped like a small bird learning to take flight, i am tired of fighting for my body and my mind, i am tired of wearing armor against strange people with rough hands. i want to eat heart shaped fruits and cookies and be a little silly, i want to kiss them as we share a blanket and watch a movie. i’d like to breathe deeply, for extended periods of time, and close my eyes for a bit. i want to cook tasty veggies for those i love and pick up a cool rock. i want to find new ways to love, i want to find new ways to dream.