@theartofmadeline
occasionally subtle
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Misplaced Lens Cap
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Three Goblin Art
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
titsay
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
will byers stan first human second
DEAR READER
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
JVL
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
noise dept.
Not today Justin
tannertan36
Janaina Medeiros
seen from United States
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seen from Argentina
seen from South Africa
seen from Denmark
seen from Türkiye
seen from Brazil
seen from Australia
seen from Maldives
seen from Türkiye
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@we-be-oblivion
If anyone has any videos of Hozier doing covers or just singing songs that aren't official, you better hand them over NOW.
I NEED that rush of unseen Hozier content.
some of my favorite less hyped covers
pre-fame deep cuts:
Spotify : https://tinyurl.com/y4txtouhFacebook : https://www.facebook.com/anunachoirInstagram : https://www.instagram.com/a
Friendships and Boundaries
Before this year, I have gotten myself rather distant from other people. I've told myself that I really shouldn't get too close to people because I will be the one who gets left behind. I will be the one ending up alone.
There really isn't any problem with being alone. I found it rather conducive of my lifestyle. I get to study about new things. I get to spend time watching rather educational videos on youtube. I get to lure myself into a hobby I'll only try once. I liked being alone. I did not feel a tiny bit lonely. Unless I go online in social media.
My Sun in Summer
You came when I had been desperate even for a little light. You said that the sun comes out naturally; that one does not need to force for its warmth to be felt. And indeed, the light did come, slowly and calmly as it rises, yet energetic. Even, brazenly at times.
I basked in your warmth as a little plant would. "This is how I'll grow," I thought. "Finally, what I have longed for is within my reach."
A promise.
A future.
My very own sun.
A day, a week, a month had passed and surely the sun did shine. Even in the night, my moon glowed brighter because of you, my sun.
I found myself growing, or at least attempting to grow. "Let's grow steadily", I thought. "My sun will still shine brightly tomorrow... even on the days after."
Days and nights flew by, and I drew closer and closer to the sun. I wanted the light. I wanted the warmth until I burn into it, hoping that I become one with it.
Amidst the ecstasy of bathing in you, I had forgotten my own existence. Of how I was built. I had forgotten that drawing too close to the sun does not make you one with it. I had forgotten that the sun is to be cherished at a safe distance otherwise...
Otherwise..
Otherwise....
on L O N G I N G
susan sontag as consciousness is harnessed to the flesh: journals and longings \ beau taplin \ mahmoud darwish another road in the road \ susan sontag as consciousness is harnessed to the flesh: journals and longings (via @metamorphesque)
shout me a cuppa
Yoshitaka Amano
Sidewalk Grottos and Pedestals
"There are a lot of grottos on the side of the roads of Bali," you said, walking beside me switching from my left and right as you try to pull your puppy along.
We just passed by a sidewalk altar of a rather decorated Catholic figure and yet you were more brilliant than they could have ever been that night. Blasphemous as it may seem, you were the most beautiful being I ever laid eyes on.
If heaven was real, maybe you did come from above and came to visit. Maybe it was a sign from above that I was not at all too shabby of a human being because I was blessed with your presence and attention.
Your smile glowed brighter than the city lights on a starless sky. You were warmth, welcoming despite my silence. You were calmness, and yet always attentive to your surroundings. Always ready to take action for those that need it.
I had thought that it was the first time I have ever laid eyes on an angel on earth. Without even knowing, I had already put you up on a pedestal.
I wanted to bask in your beauty. I wanted to be even more blessed with your light and warmth. Maybe even more so with your caresses.
Angels don't belong on earth, however, even moreso that they can't belong to me. You are to be shared with the world. You are to share your kindness and light to everyone.
Maybe I'll just leave a space for you into that little grotto at the corner of my heart. Thank you for stopping by.
Yoshitaka Amano: Midnight Sun (1990)
Oil study by Liza Sivakova
{ Mahmoud Darwish/ Virginia Woolf/ Edgar Allan Poe, from a Letter to Helen Whitman, "The Last Letters of Edgar Allan Poe to Sarah Helen Whitman"/ Albert Camus, The Possessed (transl. By O'Brien)/ Emily Dickinson/ Anton Chekhov, The Complete Works of Anton Chekhov "The Two Volodyas"/ Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes/ Louisa May Alcott, Little Women/ Yann Martel, Life of Pi/ Cameron Awkward-Rich, Meditations in an Emergency/ De profundis/ Oscar Wilde}
Simple hand-holding is just meant to be simple. Light-hearted. Friendly, even.
Finding this sort of connection somehow feels very easy to attain but rather difficult to keep up with. At times, also easily misunderstood. How would you even know if there would be meaning far beyond what is on the surface when everything happens in the same way until suddenly something or someone snaps and changes?
When would one find that they want something more than what's there? When would one find that is truly was what they want? If they found out that they did not like the outcome, would they even speak up when things go south from the getgo?
How would they pick up the pieces they've left if they do leave? Would they take responsibility of the damage or would they just leave to have the other pick up the pieces?
A simple, carefree hand-holding but why has contempt and doubt suddenly come up? How far ahead should one think things through before they jump into the unknown?
You find people to talk to when you feel lonely... And then you feel alone because you see how said people bond with each other without you...
Maybe I'm just terrible at social relationships.
Are you really just not that attracted to anyone or is it just that no one giving you any attention?
You are Paper
You were a blank page. You were a page I would have wanted to skip over in a flash but couldn't. I had been much too used to ignoring almost everyone around me that I passed you for a person I would have to deal with 5 times a week. You had been a page I had to come across at and pass as nothing 8 hours a week.
But then like all blank pages, you had been filled out. Most of the time by obligation... but not without doodles and scribbles you write on the corners of the pages. You had become the light-hearted scribbles on my paper. You turned out to be the temporary happiness on a routinary day.
Time passed, and the light-hearted strokes seeped past its boundaries, coursing through to the center, adding flourishes to what once was another boring page.
You were a page in my sketch book. Thick, weighty, smooth to the touch, created and used for a purpose. You were a page I would mull over and concentrate on for hours. You were (are) a page meant for something colorful and beautiful, a sight in the making. Simple gray hues were no longer enough. Before I knew it, you had become more than a page.
You were a book. Your cover enticing me to read through. Your pages I'd caress, feeling for its gentle leaves over and over. You were my escape from loneliness; from the reality I was once very accustomed to. It felt like I was blessed with a new perspective. You made me believe that even a detached person like I could belong to a fantasy.
But then just like every other book, all stories has its end. I would leaf through each and every intricate page, never wanting to go back to my reality but I always end up staring into the final page. This final page leering, commanding me once and for all close the book. "This is not your story. You aren't the protagonist. This is not your life," it says.
I was so enthralled I didn't realize it wasn't even mine.
Sometimes, an "I don't care" could also mean "I don't want to care because it hurts"..
With that being said, I'm not even sure how to handle emotions well so I make a semi-anonymous blog to vent out. I don't particularly know who to talk to about it... Or if I actually should
fever dream: the series
the midnight gospel is a BEAUTIFUL show. i’m a sucker for adult animation with a good mix of genuine emotion and dumb humor and boy did this have plenty of both
Consent.
At which point could you say that it really has been given?
Saying "yes" after saying "no" for so many times... would it still be consent?
