what if you could @everyone on tumblr
i think some sunglasses company is doing that rn
at anyone who's been tagged from my account, apologies, and I'm not sure how that happened ;_;
Cosimo Galluzzi
styofa doing anything
almost home
Peter Solarz

â
Xuebing Du
RMH
YOU ARE THE REASON
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Sade Olutola

ellievsbear
Not today Justin

Andulka
đȘŒ

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Product Placement
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@glowofftheroad
what if you could @everyone on tumblr
i think some sunglasses company is doing that rn
at anyone who's been tagged from my account, apologies, and I'm not sure how that happened ;_;

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Last summer, we planted balloons in our backyard. My father stood with his feet apart, sweat breaking out, the now dirty shovel slung over his shoulder. The dirt was dug out in thirteen different places, thirteen different holding cells for the balloons. We got to our task, our dresses neatly tucked beneath our knees, bare feet to the cold moss underneath. Planting a balloon is quite an art. The airy monsters hung overhead, a careless hovering. I pinched the puckered bottom tight as my sister, with her careful fingers, sealed its open throat. The bottom of the string was then sealed into the mud, patted into existence by our careful hands.Thirteen different holding cells for thirteen different balloons, thirteen different monoliths reaching up into the night. I watched their figures silhouetted against my window, monstrous shadows, a black cutout against our peach-white walls. We made up stories in the night, of the balloons coming to life.It takes eight years for a balloon to reach its maturity. Eight years until harvest, and we counted each night like our lives depended upon it. My sister chose her favourite balloon, a skeamish grey one that shone when the moon struck it at a certain angle. Her balloon hovered as tall as the china rose tree and my red, red one hovered beneath hers. I watched as she clipped the grey off its string, careful and slow. Nimble. My sister. I hesitated. I'm a taurus, i break things. ( i cried the first night i held your heart- but you knew that already, didnt you?)"Like a bull in a china shop", my grandmother used to say. The red of its skin splattered all over me before I could scream.Â
bitter madness,
I call to you-
In a moment or two, you are due,
or in a month, or a few.
my clockwork heart, now in two
makes its solemn way, to you.
sweet madness,
make me a harmony-
the hour is now past
for you to sing to me,
write me a prayer,Â
a symphony.
merry madness,
I'll make my nest again-
clothe me in your best,
In your sweet disdain.
I'll walk someday, I'll walk again.
There is a vein open somewhere in my heart and I watch
the blood gather
in well connected estuaries, waterborne paralysis, gather me in a boat and sail across to you.
Bodies in a boxing ring, we rock togetherÂ
in harmonious disorder ,
come head to head, knives in a fist-fight.Â
I put flowers on your hair and wait for you to cry.Â
I wanted you to bleed before I left,
to watch wounds heal in slow scabsÂ
and tree-like scars across our arms,
to know that I was as much a human as anybody else.
winter settles like an old coat
of dust around the doorknob, no footprint
heralds arrival to my door.Â
i watch,rapt-
the birds are migrating,we've nowhere to go,Â
i am alone, between my crockery and shelf,
this dormant self, soft as dormouse.
love arrived, in a well pressed suit
in polished shoes, but I wasn't home.
i dimmed my light to sleep, but the
spirits left me listening-
a tickle of feet, a pull of the hair,
i turn back but there's nobody there,
a kiss on my neck, a touch of my brow
the soft-slow tapping of knuckle on window-
you slipped in like a shadow.

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Watch us now, my witches and i
burn us down and watch us die,
watch me burn , watch me rise
my body falls in ashen rain.
watch us climb, my lady and i
over your fiery metal divide
between the bars, we gently slide,
until we meet again.
keep your swords away today,
keep your missiles, keep them lain
come see her in my arms again
these witches, my lady and I.Â
Gemma Arterton as Vita Sackville-West and Elizabeth Debicki as Virginia Woolf in Vita and Virginia (Chanya Button, 2018)
your window cuts squares in the sky
puzzle pieces of
glass tainted by our breath.
the rain sucks the world into grey
you watch they clouds collide
passing whispers in closed fists.
they fit in this puzzle almost mechanically,
trapped in wooden boxes
and suspended valences.
you read their poetry,your mindÂ
grazing at the frictionÂ
of the sky's syntax.
the world drowns in its own tidal wash,
I touch your elbow,silent
read it's obituary in your eyes.
I watch the ants play at Kings,Â
making their way across our father's table
with a near-Achillean pride towards myÂ
ceramic cereal bowl and
the hundred colourful cornflakes that hover
in its liquid
like exit-wounds on the night's skin
spiralling softly,sweetly, a fruityÂ
kaleidoscope in a milky, milky way-
and I,a watchman in the sky,
I watch the futile insectile conceit.
I leave for school
with stars stuck between my teeth.Â
come new year, and my father is Ashar, meaning my grandmother's lost prayer. Other days he's Ashi; The phone rings for Ashar.
Tonight, he comes home, his powder pawing the edges of his clothes, smiles at me before setting the fish to heat, oil beating itself into rain; "naya saal mubarak"- fish and fortune taste the same in his mouth.
come daytime, he grabs my mother's now careworn shoes. bright, cheap appearances,fit on mannequins, left to the streets, he walks with the gait of a fairy; leather-clad suits petition his freedom,yet, politely revolted at the sight of his sari, carefully avoid his eye. Women close their car windows like glass eyelids.

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UNTRANSLATABLE WORDS FOR THE AESTHETICâą {PART I}
1) Po ushi vlubitsya (Russian) - An idiom that literally translates to âfall in love up to your earsâ.
2) Nanakorobi Yaoki äžè»ąăłć «è”·ă(Japanese) - An idiom that translates to â if you fall seven times, get back up eight timesâ.
3) Merak (Serbian)- Refers to a feeling of bliss and the sense of oneness with the universe that comes from the simplest of pleasures. It is the pursuit of small, daily pleasures that all add up to a great sense of happiness and fulfillment.
4) Mono no aware (ç©ăźćă) (Japansese)- Translates literally to âthe pathos of thingsâ, and also translated as âan empathy toward thingsâ, or âa sensitivity to ephemeraâ, and is the Japanese concept for the awareness of the impermanence or transience of all things and the gentle sadness and wistfulness at their passing. It is enjoying the sadness of the inevitable cycle of life.
5) Komorebi (Japanese) - The sunlight that filters through the leaves of the trees.
6) Nefelibata (Portuguese) - Literal translation of âcloud walkerâ, and describes someone who does not conform to the rules of society, art and literature & lives by within the clouds of their own imagination and dreams.)
7) FĂœrgebrĂŠc (Old English) - The word for sharp breaking / crackling sound made by fire.
8) Sillage (French) - Term for the scent that lingers after something/one has passed & the wake or trails that airplanes leave in the sky or boats in water as well as the trace of someoneâs perfume.
9) KyĆka suigetsu (Japanese) - An idiom with the literal translation of âflower in the mirror & a moon in the waterâ, and references something which is visible and cannot be touched as well as the profound beauty of poems that cannot be described in words.
10)Temul (Mongolian)- References a creative frenzy, to intensely be inspired and take a flight of fancy. âthe word (temul) was best exemplified by âthe look in the eye of the horse that is racing where it wants to go, no matter what the rider wantsââ. â Jack Weatherford, Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World (2004))
11) Mamihlapinatapei (Yagan) - The wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so.)
12) CafunĂ© (Brazilian Portueguese) - The act of tenderly running oneâs fingers through someoneâs hair.
13) Luftmensch (Yiddish) - Refers to someone who is a bit of a dreamer; literally, an âair person.â
14) Duende (Spanish) - The mysterious power that a work of art has to deeply move a person.
15) Lâappel du vide (French) - Literally translated to âthe call of the voidâ; contextually used to describe the instinctive urge to jump from high places.
16)Commuovere (Italian) - Often taken to mean âheartwarming,â but directly refers to a story that moved you to tears
17) Hanyauku (Rukwangali) - The act of walking on tiptoes across warm sand.
18) Kilig (Tagalog) - The feeling of butterflies in your stomach, usually when something romantic takes place.
19) Vergissmeincht ( German) - The term for forget-me-not flowers, and in 15th Cwntury Germany, it was believed that wearers of the flower would not be forgotten by their lovers. Legend has it that in medieval times, a knight and his lady were walking along the side of a river. He picked a posy of flowers, but because of the weight of his armour he fell into the river. As he was drowning he threw the posy to his loved one and shouted âforget me notâ. It was often worn by ladies as a sign of faithfulness and enduring love.
20) HÇi shĂŹ shÄn mĂ©ng (æ”·èȘć±±ç) (Chinese)- A proverb of eternal love that literally translates to âthe promises of mountains and vows of seasâ.
21) Setsunai ćăȘă (ăă€ăȘă) (Japenese) a Word for a feeling between bitttersweet,painful and wistful.
22) AranyhĂd (Hungarian)- A term for the reflection of the sun as it shines on water and can literally be translated to âthe golden bridgeâ.
23) XibipĂĂo (PirahĂŁ) - A word for the description of experiential liminality- of a being in the boundaries of experience and the act of entering or leaving perception.
24) YĆ«gen (ćčœç) (Japenese) - This is a principle at the core of the appreciation of beauty and art in Japan. It shows that real beauty exists when, through its suggestiveness, only a few words, or few brush strokes, can suggest what has not been said or shown â hence awaken many inner thoughts and feelings.
25) RasÄsvÄda à€°à€žà€Ÿà€žà„à€”à€Ÿà€Š (Sanskrit) - rasa, âjuice, essenceâ; ÄsvÄda, âtasting, enjoyingâ) A word for the taste of bliss in the absence of all thoughts.
26) Sehnsucht (German) - A term for the inconsolable longing in the human heart for what we know not.
27) Cheiro no cangote (Brazilian Portuguese )- A term depicting the act of nuzzling your loveâs neck with the tip of your nose.
28) Gökotta (Swedish) - A word that is often referred to as âdawn picnic to hear the first birdsongâ.
29) Natsukashii (Japanese) - A term for the warm sentimentality of fond memories & nostalgia.
30) Yakamoz (Turkish)- Yakamoz is commonly referred to as the reflection of the moon as it shines upon the water.Though its original meaning is now nearly forgotten, a yakamoz is actually the light coming from the ocean or salt-water rivers that is caused by microorganisms Noctuluca scintillans, commonly known as the Sea Sparkle, and considered as the fireflies of the sea. When these creatures are moved or disturbed, they create a wonderful luminescent effect that, when gazed from afar, look like a scene in which moonlight shines in the sea. The closest English equivalent to yakamoz, they say, is phosphorescence.
31) Pretoogjes (Dutch) - A term that literally translates to âfun-eyesâ and describes the eyes of a chucking person who is up to benign mischief.
32) Ukiyo (Japanese)- A term which translates to âthe floating worldâ, and depicts a place of fleeting beauty and living in the moment, without worries.
33) Wabi-Sabi (Japanese) - A phase that finds beauty in the âimperfect, impermanent, and incompleteâ. Wabi is the quality of a rustic, yet refined, solitary beauty. Sabi means things whose beauty stems from age - the patina of age, and the concept that changes due to use may make an object more beautiful and valuable. Sakura {cherry blossoms} in spring are perfect examples of this as they are aesthetically pleasing precisely because they donât last.
34) Aamukaste (Finnish) - Word for morning dew .
35) MÄngata (Swedish)- The glimmering,roadlile reflection of moonlight on a river.
36) Hanaemi è±çŹăż (Japanese) - Means the âflowering smileâ or âthe smile of flowersâ in old Japanese. It is a smile that is as beautiful as blooming flowers, calling people to feel happy.)
37) Les bruixes es pentinen (Catalan) - This is a Catalan phrase for sunshower which has a colloquiall mythology reference to âwitches brushing their hairâ.
38) WalwalĂŒn (Malpundungan) -A word for the sound of flowing water.
39) Dhvani (Sanskrit) - A term depicting the feature of a poem/line having a hidden meaning that strikes you on the second or further readings but not the first.
40) Orenda (Huron ) - A term used to describe the mystical force present in all people that empowers them to affect the world or change their own fate/destiny.
41) Abendrot (German) - A word for the colour of the sky when the sun is setting.
42) Phosphene (English)- A word that depicts the colour or stars you see when you rub your eyes.
43) Dérive (French)- A term encompassing spontaneous journey on which the subtle aesthetic contours of the landscape and architecture subconsciously attract and move the traveler, encountering an entirely new and authentic experience. In performing a dérive, the individual in question must first set aside all work and leisure activities, clearing their minds of all their usual motives for movement and action, then let themselves be drawn by the attractions of the terrain and the encounters they find there.
44) YĂčyÄ«n (Chinese) - A term that depicts the remanants of a sound that remain in the ear even after the sound has stopped.
45) KĆwhekowheko (Maori) - A word that describes the motion of fire as it dies out and blazes up again and/or to burst into flames when seemingly not burning.
46) Eigengrau (German ) - A term that translates literally to âintrinsic greyâ, and the color seen by the eye in perfect darkness.
47) Kawa Akari (Japenese) - A term which translated literally to âriver lightâ, and describes the sunset reflecting on the river, the glow of a river int the darkness and the gleam of a last night on a rivers surface at dusk.
48) Ćafak ( Turkish) - This word depicts the first skylight seen during dawn or just before the sun rises.
49) Bilita mpash (Bantu) - The term for the opposite of nightmare- not merely a good dream but a âlegendary blissful state where all is forgiven and forgotten.â
50)Kaza Hikaru (éąšć ă) (Japanese) - _ A warm breeze of spring that follows after a dark cold winter, comes and breathes gently upon the skin, as if like a shining radiance.
{Credit : @word-stuck, Thought Catalog, and Google} (PART 2)
Last summer, you gave me your little toy piano, Keys falling apart like your broken teeth. They bleated like a dying hound but I kept it anyway You'd take your hand in mine and break your past into a hundred different tales- rough, scaly palms gathered across Your decades of living, like little, piling disasters, Veins blue against the brown like stories branching out You told me of your trip to Manali of powerless rooms in a dark, dingy cabin with dirty green walls and the rancid smell of sweat and beer-of days across the border in our ancient family home and you, Â frail of eight, making your way through the red, red soil of a lost country, your grey eyes a beacon through the past until the day you caught the same grey pair looking back at you on the rear-view mirror and wondered who it was screamed "my name is George!" twice at it and sobbed like an old piano note I waited by your bedside all afternoon for a story about a young,brown boy, until you turned around to ask my name and the light trembled so gently I could cry.
 my grandfather and amnesia
in the softest hours after midnight I recall our soft conversations, silent and steady, slow with the lazy turning of the night. Your voice,in its carefully measured baritone, cloying with smoke rings and the bitter aftertaste of remembrance, And mine, of one yet to know the world. We spoke to the stars, and the age old Indian myth of the dead looking down from among them, a timeless spectacle of lights,and moonlit moments meaning much to melancholy mountaineers, Of God, and religion and books Iâd never be old enough to read; I see the stars mapped across the skies Like milestones in an empty stretch Of black, pulled out around the world like saran wrap around a carefully packaged lunchbox,count them in my head, imitating your voice in my head,a high-pitched garble instead- I, a pale puppet of the past and you, a watchman in the sky, pallid,still
Letters to my Grandfather
Give me your tempered faith,and I'll build it back with wood and glass; I'm a Pisces,I like to swim- I wade through time like I wade through water.Give me the blade and I'll carve out the numerical tattoos that my battered clocks brandish- bend their hands behind their backs,until they cry for Mercy or deport us back to the time,when IÂ traced the constellations on the porcelain skin of your back. Tasting the dawn on your tongue Like burnt coffee and cigarette cinders left unlit. The stars will formed a plethora of unfamiliar euphoric faces;-The same faces that my grandfather taught me to fathom, When we weren't too busy carving timekeepers out of wood Reading tarot cards of blemished futures that lay uncoiled above our heads;the wanderlust of my tongue on your neck and the strange recognition of a heavy heart- Uncharted state of evanescent serenade like Moonlit moments meaning much to melancholy mountaineers. I'm a watchmaker, I like to control things. Wade through time, pretending to not drown in its steady tide.
In my native tongue that has as many names for money as the Inuit have for snow, a new word surfaces like a tiny, red stone in the rubble, or a morning poem pieced together from dreams, though my head throbs as I huddle over my desk, doing its biddingâ is there not a word for that, the idea you must get down on paper before it dissolves and you cease to know it? A thought that shape-shifts into something like longing? Or is it more of an atmospheric loneliness that storms through you, the rain on your face mingled with tearsâ although there is no word for that either. For so long we have been a country devoid of those words that transcended language to elicit, for example, the Swedish reflection of the moon on a body of water: Mangata; or Japan's Komorebi, the sunlight held between a tree's branches like a prayer; or what the French know as Joie de vivre, another quality for which we have long been wordless, so thick-tongued that even the lines in between the lines couldnât quite enlighten us. Itâs like the way our minds try and fail at constructing the bright threads between constellationsâ and speaking of which, why isnât there a word for that?

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A million suits and well paid boots polished, mechanical, each footwork an elaborate move on a checkered,half broken sidewalk, an ancient nine-to-five game in black and white.
an age-old game of chess
Skin incandescent under the slowly turning mid morning, your skin shines with the glow of my mother's first lillies in May, its softness a soft pink in the jarring vibrance of Indian bustle.  How carefully you assume your place in the picture, with your first world visa binary clothes, subtly yet conspicuously aware that even your shabbiest appearance will outdo mine without a simple challenge. in a brown country that lives and breathes in denial of its browness, your paleness is the beauty of the fallen God; gently lingering, I can see the gentle pride of your eyes.
Black and White