lazy, sundrenched - tan skin on crushed blue velvet. the sound of wind in barebone trees moving like skeletons. sometime after noon. sometime between fall and winter. someplace between worlds.
we're not kids anymore.
todays bird

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gracie abrams
EXPECTATIONS
macklin celebrini has autism
Monterey Bay Aquarium

roma★
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Discoholic 🪩
Keni

Kiana Khansmith

if i look back, i am lost
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art blog(derogatory)
untitled
$LAYYYTER
Mike Driver
Claire Keane
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@hazyylove
lazy, sundrenched - tan skin on crushed blue velvet. the sound of wind in barebone trees moving like skeletons. sometime after noon. sometime between fall and winter. someplace between worlds.

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Presence. I feel detached from it these days. We sit on our cell phones. all of us. We sit around the table feeling love but focusing elsewhere. I am always focusing elsewhere. I listen to Max as he rants about social media and its detriments. About the problems within my generation that cause us to constantly crave what others have. we forget what we have. we forget what exists right here. “Remember when you wanted what you currently have”. Remember when the universe gave you everything you asked for? Remember remember the way you used to feel? Has it ever been enough? These are the questions I ask myself. As I walk through my life unsatisfied. As I feel the familiar ‘pitter patter’ in my chest that signals anxiety. Anxiety that stems from being unable to live in the moment. Unable to let go. Unable to disconnect from the rest of the world that moves on without me.
Everything that I have in my life. everything. is beautiful. Colorado is a magical place full of growth once I learn to let go of the past. I let go of the past. I let go of the control that I hold so tightly on my life. on the people in my life. I let go. It unwinds like silky grey string wrapped around my finger. like my holey green sweater. The control and the anger and the fear and everything that inhibits me from my purest and highest and most beautiful wonderful self. I let it go. I am freeeeeee. I am so so free I am dancing around in circles I am in a sunny field in england and I am wearing a white dress and my face is golden and even and my skin is warm and my body is strong. i am grateful for my health for my radiating health. For my beautiful functioning body. It takes care of me every second it guides me it is my home. I live here in this place. In this headspace. In this sensitive empathetic home. I feel the world and the world feels me. This is my life and my love and what I provide so readily for my loved ones. But I am strong and I am like bamboo I do not break with the wind I simply bend with strength. I bow like the beginning of a dance. I bow to the difficulties and the struggles and the hardships. I face them fearlessly. and then I continue dancing.
look at that little baby body. And the light on your skin.
look at his hands on your thighs and chest to your back and so much god damn skin
and alone you have everything you are god-ess you are surreal to the world you are wrapped up in brown paper so perfectly intact so blissfully breaking apart at every crack and sinew in your bones and your teeth and the creases by your eyes and behind your knees
You feel words with every moment that exists. They narrate your life.
But with him you are beyond anything fathomable you are the highest ecstasy imaginable. Your mind melts into his being and there is nothing left to seek
The Lover (1992)

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my kind of #selfie ⏰ (at Vienna, Austria)
https://www.instagram.com/agnijagrigule/
by Mariana Nascimento

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As my sufferings mounted I soon realized that there were two ways in which I could respond to my situation – either to react with bitterness or seek to transform the suffering into a creative force. I decided to follow the latter course.
Martin Luther King Jr.
Empty. Is my mind. is the space between my collar bones. Is my chest.
No time no time no time for my old life my beautiful life my foolish life.
I grasp for the words to explain how I feel and nothing comes out. It hurts (the whistling of air through my lungs. the gulping for a taste of what I used to be)
Who have I become
you’re so beautiful baby you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen
this is what he whispers in between his sips of whiskey. I drink red & let my shirt slide off my shoulders. Our love is heavy eyelids and music always and hot skin.
he is a lone wolf - blue eyes piercing into me, growling underneath me.
I ache to know him

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i was/everywhere, like a god/or a virus & i was everything/required of me & i was anything/but tame/& so, so long from then/i stand in the deepest part of night/singing recklessly, calling/what must feast/ to feast.
Danez Smith, from “recklessly,” published in Vinyl (via pigmenting)