âHis hands were created to be cold and destructive; to be deadly towards whatever stopped him from accomplishing his mission. And yet, when they rest upon you, theyâre warm and sentientâ
â Yesterdayâs Wake (a Detroit Become Human fanfic)
RMH
Misplaced Lens Cap
trying on a metaphor

izzy's playlists!
NASA
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JBB: An Artblog!
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Andulka
hello vonnie
Show & Tell


YOU ARE THE REASON

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

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noise dept.
Sade Olutola

Discoholic đŞŠ
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@endvranc
âHis hands were created to be cold and destructive; to be deadly towards whatever stopped him from accomplishing his mission. And yet, when they rest upon you, theyâre warm and sentientâ
â Yesterdayâs Wake (a Detroit Become Human fanfic)

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anyone 6'0 or taller: stands near me
me: [softly] for fuck's sake

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âChildhood is long and narrow like a coffin, and you canât get out of it on your own [âŚ] You canât get out of childhood, and it clings to you like a bad smell. You notice it in other children - each childhood has its own smell. You donât recognize your own and sometimes youâre afraid that itâs worse than othersâ. Youâre standing talking to another girl whose childhood smells of coal and ashes, and suddenly she takes a step back because she has noticed the terrible stink of your childhood. On the sly, you observe the adults whose childhood lies inside them, torn and full of holes like a used and moth-eaten rug no one thinks about anymore or has any use for. You canât tell by looking at them that theyâve had a childhood, and you donât dare ask how they managed to make it through without their faces getting deeply scarred and marked by it. You suspect that theyâve used some secret shortcut and donned their adult form many years ahead of time. They did it one day when they were home alone and their childhood lay like three bands of iron around their heart, like Iron Hans in Grimmsâ fairy tale, whose bands broke only when his master was freed. But you donât know such a shortcut, childhood must be endured and trudged through hour by hour, through an absolutely interminable number of yearsâ
â from âChildhoodâ Tove Ditlevsen
âIt spins like a wheel inside you: green yellow, green blue, / green beautiful green. / Itâs simple: it isnât over, itâs just begun. Itâs green. Itâs still green.â
â Richard Siken, from âMeanwhileâ (via firstfullmoon)
Fernand Braudel, âThe Mediterranean in the Ancient Worldâ trans. Siân Reynolds
Written on the body, Jeanette Winterson
Jane Hirshfield, from After; âIt Was Like This: You Were Happyâ [transcription below cut]
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various short advice from pathologic 2â˛s loading screens
u know what makes me cry..... that one van gogh quote about life changing for the better..... âmany people seem to think it foolish, even superstitious, to believe that the world could still change for the better. and it is true that in winter it is sometimes so bitingly cold that one is tempted to say, âwhat do i care if there is a summer; its warmth is no help to me now.â yes, evil often seems to surpass good. but then, in spite of us, and without our permission, there comes at last an end to the bitter frosts. one morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. and so i must still have hope.â yeah..... Crying....
Yiyun Li, âTwo Livesâ
Margaret Atwood, from âTheir Attitudes Differâ, Selected Poems: 1965-1975
Margaret Atwood, âThoughts from Undergroundâ, Selected Poems: 1965-1975

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Mary Oliver, from âStorageâ, Felicity
karl bryullov, the last day of pompeii &Â phoebe bridgers, i know the end