“How you react to the world is political and human and there’s no difference between those two things.” (x)
will byers stan first human second
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

ellievsbear
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
KIROKAZE
AnasAbdin
hello vonnie

blake kathryn
Claire Keane
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

@theartofmadeline
occasionally subtle

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Misplaced Lens Cap

Andulka
🪼
Sweet Seals For You, Always
DEAR READER
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@youspeakme
“How you react to the world is political and human and there’s no difference between those two things.” (x)
Dear Mr. Gaiman- Any advice for a teenage writer who wants to write adult characters? Or just about things I have no experience with in general?
Observe Adults. Know that each and every one of them is faking it. At no point was any adult actually given an instruction manual on how to do adulthood. Inside each of them is someone exactly like you.
Now you can write them.
“My cousin Helen, who is in her 90s now, was in the Warsaw ghetto during World War II. She and a bunch of the girls in the ghetto had to do sewing each day. And if you were found with a book, it was an automatic death penalty. She had gotten hold of a copy of ‘Gone With the Wind’, and she would take three or four hours out of her sleeping time each night to read. And then, during the hour or so when they were sewing the next day, she would tell them all the story. These girls were risking certain death for a story. And when she told me that story herself, it actually made what I do feel more important. Because giving people stories is not a luxury. It’s actually one of the things that you live and die for.” –Neil Gaiman
wow
I need to learn....whether what’s between us is powerful enough, potent enough, intriguing and mesmerizing enough to hold me. To keep my attention not just because it’s new and not something I’ve experienced before, but because it, and even more what feeds it, is something I crave and will keep craving... I suppose until death do is part.
🖤🖤🖤🖤
Her body quivered on the cusp of revelation.
I like the picture this paints.
If courage isn’t the absence of fear but doing the right thing regardless of it, maybe confidence isn’t the absence of insecurity but knowing you have real worth despite it
this is beautiful
By this same token, maybe goodness isn’t the absence of bad thoughts or impulses, but the conscious choice to behave according to your moral ideals in spite of them.
have you ever loved a lyric so much that when you hear it feels like your heart is trying to burst out of your body
Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.
Carrie Fisher (via thebelivet-airds)
“Don’t slide through life. Savor it. Slow down. Be kind. Pay attention. Because this isn’t going to happen again.”
Carrie Fisher (via carrieffisherappreciation)
I have never been able to understand people with consistent lives – people who, for example, grow up in a liberal Catholic household and stay that way; or who in junior high school are already laying down a record on which to run for president one day. Imagine having no discarded personalities, no vestigial selves, no visible ruptures with yourself, no gulf of self-forgetfulness, nothing that requires explanation, no alien version of yourself that requires humor and accommodation. What kind of life is that?
Michael Warner, “Tongues Untied” in Curiouser: On the Queerness of Children (216)
Uncle Yanco dir. Agnes Varda
- Andrea Gibson
It’s almost as if nobody wants to admit that they might not be prepared to do the work it takes to love somebody. And it can be laborious. To be intimate with someone who is flawed (which is the standard) requires us to expose our own flaws. We don’t talk about the heavy responsibility of that. We don’t talk about how we’re too lazy or too cowardly sometimes. We instead accuse love of being elusive. It isn’t. It is omnipresent. It asks us to be better people. And sometimes we flat out refuse.
You can surround yourself with people who love you and still feel alone,“ he said. “You can laugh with a hundred friends but still cry when you get home.” “The problem with most of us,“ he said, “is not the lack of love. It’s the inability to understand why anyone in their right mind would want to love us.
S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #269 (via blossomfully)