
Discoholic 🪩

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RMH
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
hello vonnie
macklin celebrini has autism
occasionally subtle

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noise dept.
NASA
Noah Kahan
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pixel skylines

roma★
Three Goblin Art

oozey mess

tannertan36
official daine visual archive
d e v o n
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seen from Poland
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@vistaragoldmyst
Survivors do hate themselves, I know, over the core of fierce self-love, never understanding, always asking, ‘Why me and not her, not him?’ There is such mystery in it, and I have hated myself as much as I have loved others, hated the simple fact of my own survival. Having survived, am I supposed to say something, do something, be something?
Dorothy Allison, “River of Names,” Trash (via dabokva)
Hunter by Wilhelm Waltermann.
This is for the first night we spent together: Your lips drawing me in and in. I did not have the nerve to tell you how I felt. How I felt the danger of your stare screaming over my body. My lips. My eyes. I cannot keep my distance from you and I do not want to keep trying. One a.m. I hear you walking towards my room and my hands cannot move fast enough towards you. I want to pull your ethereal soul into my sinful soul and feel our opposite forces create a storm that I can walk beside you in. Two a.m. I touch you for the first time and you are shaking. You look up at me with eyes that are made of rain; a smile that makes my body tremble. Three a.m. I find you with your hands grabbing at my back as I close my lips around yours. Your taste spreads throughout my bloodstream as I breathe you in; breathe you out. I am a raging sea and you are the moon pulling me into reality. This is for the morning after the first night we spent together: I think I am going to fall in love with you and I am scared I am scared I am scared.
c0mprlse (via wnq-writers)
Belle livraison 🌿🍃🌾 (à Envers du Dēcor )
*leans in for the kiss but just goes for my own bicep instead*
friend: are u a big spoon or a little spoon?
me: im a knife
i. mother, i am a child. i cry, i scream, i throw childish fits, i am a nuisance in every sense of the god forsaken word. i’ve taken your jewelry and wrapped it around my wrist. i stole it like i stole your freedom. ii. mother, i am scarred. i have been broken and bruised. i’ve fallen and scraped my heart. but you picked me back up and dusted me off, cleaning the blood from my kneecaps. iii. mother, i am alone. i’ve isolated my loved ones, i’ve taken my scars and projected them onto everybody else’s porcelain skin. i have taken their ivory bathed fingertips in mine and made a promise to which i later broke. iv. mother, i am sorry.
mother, i am all i am, but you love me anyway. (via dxnamis)