PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Peter Solarz
NASA

blake kathryn

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art blog(derogatory)
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Origami Around

titsay
Cosmic Funnies
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Janaina Medeiros
Sweet Seals For You, Always
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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Product Placement
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@wetrembled
24.09.15, 8:29PM // summary sheets are a great way to revise… and to try out pretty new pens 😳
Back to coffee & readings
Photo from 20 November 2015: A page from my planner from the first half of the week. Under a lot of stress right now because finals are fast approaching, but I’m trying to get by. 😀💪
Follow me on Instagram (arialligraphy) or add me on Snapchat (ariadnejessica) for more photos!
The most commonly spoken languages besides English and Spanish in New York City’s neighborhoods
I love seeing men gush about their relationships and the women they love. It’s time for the whole trope of men hating being married/ viewing relationships as things holding them back. Amen for men uplifting their women and their relationship. Amen for men getting choked up and ready eyes thinking about the one they love. Amen for men thinking of the woman they are with as their best friend.
I’m reviewing empirical formulas before starting notes on molecular formulas…I reallyyyyy can’t wait for winter break!
top of the rock
muir woods
2015/12/19 Good day
be bad to me I want you to claw me alive, take my shirt between your fingers and tear it apart rip me to shreds, consume me, take your mouth and kiss me and when I tell you I need to breathe I don't want you to stop— suffocate me kill me with pleasure inundate me with "don't fucking stop" and make me scream, make me cry to me best friend in the middle of the night with ice cream intubation and Netflix on drip, have me stop living make me wish me dead love me be bad to me love me and leave me out to dry take my heart and take your nails, take my lungs and take your hammer, destroy me beyond repair grab my arm and pull yours up: heroin scars and iv lines, don't tell me, "you deserve better." shove a needle up my veins tell me I deserve this I deserve this pack your bags and make my mother love you leave unexplained lipstick stains on your ties and take my father out to football games give me children run be bad to me, im begging you
love is a losing game
Ten years from now, make sure you can say that you chose your life, you didn’t settle for it.
(via alunit)
Hiroshi Yoshida
the price of cleansing is this: a free ride from uber — featuring, soft eyes from a west european immigrant, stuck in pasadena at a job that includes shuffling unhappy teenagers from homes to places they ought not to be — and a $10 metro ticket to the heart of los angeles at dawn. they say that cities are this country's backbone, that without them, we lose everything. my father, when angry, says, "you have no backbone," and as I get on the train, I have concluded that means that I am nothing. (among other things, he tells me that he is one breath away from never missing me again, he says, eight months is a long time to happiness. my bed is always made. i am never home.) the window beside me is cracked. a stranger plumps down in the seat in front of me and he smells of decaf mocha and sleepless nights. the world is still dark; I try my best to keep focused on the outside, anyway. the stranger pulls his briefcase back and reveals his name, carved into scratched leather like an afterthought. eli, like my friend's ex, who gave me his sweater to wear in ventura the halloween before he killed himself. "seven years of bad luck," he mentions, gesturing to the glass beside me. it gets lighter, outside. stranger eli takes a breath and fishes out turkish royals from his front pocket. he says, "I can't smoke here, but do you want to share one when we get off?" it occurs to me that I might have been crying, because my eyes are stinging loud and Eli has pity oozing out of him and looks at me like I am fine china about to fall off the table. I say yes. I have had enough of my lungs. (my mother told me that it means nothing to her when I cry.) but eli smirks, says, "kid, you're a little too young to die," puts his cigarettes back where he got them and closes his eyes to sleep. I get off the train.
metrolink #1
go easy on me
when we sit with our backs against the walls of city buildings. when we thread our fingers together and count the ways the universe has bemoaned us. when the light slips through the moth eaten curtains of your mother’s house. when you mumble ways of leaving into my skin.
go easy on me