the second radish is 29 feet away
this is legitimately the funniest post on this site
anyone else see the eye in the middle of the radishes 👀
taylor price

shark vs the universe
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Product Placement

Janaina Medeiros
Mike Driver
Peter Solarz

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sheepfilms

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Sade Olutola
🪼
AnasAbdin
DEAR READER

JVL
hello vonnie
wallacepolsom
Game of Thrones Daily

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@wavebird
the second radish is 29 feet away
this is legitimately the funniest post on this site
anyone else see the eye in the middle of the radishes 👀
With Winnie-the-Pooh and The Battle of Hastings sharing an anniversary today, did you know that E. H. Shepard once drew this amazing scene for an exclusive book bag?
I love that none of them have weapons. Except Kanga, who has a fucking morningstar.
that is roo
Coco biting on a toy lightsaber, looks like he’s shooting his laser beam
???
She absolutely thought that was gonna be some kind of sick fucking burn but it was not
he's very excited about his first night as a jack o lantern
my boy
I love how its getting closer to that time of year again and ppl starting to reblog my boy again
(49/54) “We still take long walks together, even today. There’s a path through the forest near our house. Mitra still can’t stand the silence. She’ll walk off the path so she can hear the dry crunch of the leaves. She still talks the entire time, but these days our conversations don’t reach back as far as they used to. We mainly talk about the things we see. She’ll count her steps, count the houses, count the trees. Mitra’s memory is no longer her friend; it no longer supports her. But she still says ‘hello’ to everyone that she sees. And she’s still a queen, I am always at her service. These days we have become inseparable. If I do not see her for two minutes, I will find what room she’s in. I button her jacket. I tie her shoes. I handle all her medications. I do not grieve the situation. I feel gratitude that I am able to do these things for her, despite nature. My only grief is for her. Her memory was her greatest gift. It’s where I stored my treasures. I could tell her any verse, even once. And she could remember it forever. Now it will escape her after only a minute. Every day her world gets smaller and smaller. Tighter and tighter. It’s the oldest memories that she remembers most now. Recently she has been fixated on her hand. She keeps holding up her crippled hand, and asking: ‘Why did you ever marry me?’ When we were young in Tehran, her father had a tradition. Every morning he would insist on having the first cup of tea. He said it was the one that tasted best. He called it ‘the flower of the tea.’ So now when I brew our tea every morning, I will wait. Until Mitra is up. Until she’s ready. So that I can serve her the flower of the tea. Then as soon as we’ve finished the kettle, she’ll make me go outside. And pour the remains on the roots of our trees.”
ما همچنان با هم به پیادهرویهای درازآهنگ میرویم. راهی جنگلی در نزدیکی خانهمان هست. میترا همچنان خاموشی را برنمیتابد. هنوز به راه رفتن روی برگهای خُشک و شنیدن خِشخِش آنها دلبسته است. هنوز همهی راه را سخن میگوید، اما گفتوگوهای ما به گذشتههای دور بازنمیگردند. این روزها بیشتر دربارهی آنچه میبینیم، سخن میگوییم. او گامهایش را میشمارد، خانهها را میشمارد و درختها را. حافظهی میترا دیگر یاریاش نمیدهد، دوستش نیست، از او کناره گرفته است. ولی هنوز با هر رهگذری که از کنارمان میگذرد، خوشآمد میگوید. او هنوز شهبانوی خانه است و خواهد ماند و تا هستم او را پرستار و خدمتگزار خواهم بود. این روزها ما جداییناپذیریم. اگر برای دو دقیقه او را نبینم، در اتاقها به دنبالش میگردم. دکمههای ژاکت و بند کفشهایش را میبندم. داروهایش را به هنگام به او میرسانم. هرگز برای خودم دل نمیسوزانم. سپاسگزار بختم که میتوانم اين کارها را برای او انجام دهم. برای او اندوهناکم. برجستهترین توانایی او حافظهاش بود. یاد او گنجینهی یادهای من هم بود. میدانستم هر بیتی را یک بار برای او بخوانم، برای همیشه به یاد میسپارد. این روزها پس از دقیقهای از ذهن او میگریزند. دنیایش هر روز کوچک و کوچکتر، تنگ و تنگتر میشود. خاطرههای دوردست را بهتر به یاد دارد. تازگیها به دست چپش میاندیشد. پیوسته دست کمکار خود را بالا نگه میدارد و میپرسد: “به راستی تو چرا با من ازدواج کردی؟” روزگار جوانی که در تهران بودیم، پدرش دوست داشت هر بامداد، نخستین استکان چای را بنوشد، میگفت بهترین است. آن را «گُلِ چای» مینامید. هنگامی که هر بامداد چایمان را آماده میکنم، چشمبهراهش میمانم تا بتوانم با گُلِ چای از او پذیرایی کنم. شبها دست مرا میگیرد تا با هم تَهماندهی چای را پای گلها ودرختان بریزیم
omg this made me emotional 😭
We named him after you we hope you don't mind
Booby traps? Sure, I would easily fall into a trap if I saw boobs
despite being interviewed individually, all four gave the exact same response
Source
Source
What would happen if you got an email
i would check it
You sick fuck.
being alive is great because there are so many different vegetables you can sauté. but then there are also the horrors
with faith and perseverance, one day we will sauté the horrors
i love this website
schuylerpeck / instagram: hiitssky
despite it all sometimes its hard not to feel blessed when i get to see the moon sometimes despite it all
if i were a woman, i would tweet “ginger snapped so jennifer could body”, but i’m not a woman, and i don’t use twitter, and i haven’t seen jennifer’s body, and i don’t make a lot of money or have a car or look nice
and i don’t dress well or know how to tie any knots besides the regular one you tie your shoes with. my taste in music is lacking and i need a haircut
The mind wants to live forever, or to learn a very good reason why not. The mind wants the world to return its love, or its awareness; the mind wants to know all the world, and all eternity, and God. The mind’s sidekick, however, will settle for two eggs over easy.
The dear, stupid body is as easily satisfied as a spaniel. And, incredibly, the simple spaniel can lure the brawling mind to its dish. It is everlastingly funny that the proud, metaphysically ambitious, clamoring mind will hush if you give it an egg.
Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk
life is like I have 34 unread messages from people I love and I know it’ll take 2 seconds to respond and I miss them, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to answer quite yet I have 5 minutes in the morning to decide if I’ll commit my day’s attention to creative projects I want to get done, taking a walk or a bike ride, organizing hair cuts and braving dentist appointments or if I don’t catch myself in time, the day will be swallowed up in scrolling, my focus flitting between screens I don’t know where the time goes because I used to be small and know so much and now I’m flirting with the end of my twenties and am so scared of everything how does this both feel so new and mundane all the time and where is the exit door to this spiral where I remember living gently, full breaths and unknotted shoulders can we look for that resting place together oh no it’s fine if you’re busy I wouldn’t know where to start we can try next week if it’s better
“I can explain”