wallacepolsom

oozey mess
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
AnasAbdin
will byers stan first human second

pixel skylines

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Acquired Stardust
noise dept.

izzy's playlists!
Monterey Bay Aquarium
sheepfilms

JVL
we're not kids anymore.
$LAYYYTER
hello vonnie
cherry valley forever

ellievsbear

JBB: An Artblog!
seen from Malaysia
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@rsodintotheunknown

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everything is made up of beautiful tiny pixel flowers

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Beautiful place to get Hit by a Train
Little Beehive via Lake Agnes Trail | Banff National Park

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Happiness is a mystery
Happiness is a mystery,
the mystery of ages:
a pain that wages
but doesn't hurt at all.
It's the fire that warms
but doesn't burn the heart,
the spirit that possesses
but doesn't harm the flesh.
Even so, as quick as it comes, it goes.
And if you manage to keep her for long,
just as she comes, she soon is gone
and you can't feel her presence anymore,
even when she's at the mind's shore.
Someone said, and they couldn't be more right:
sadness has no end; happiness does.
It's a harsh maxim, but it's true, just as the moon
rises above the ocean.
Happiness is a mystery,
the mystery of eons:
a pain that wages
but doesn't hurt at all.
A curse that lingers
for generations to come,
and still is seen as
the best curse that's ever been.
It isn't. Photograph. ~2026.
Curtain Call
As I take a bow, the curtain closes
and the world chooses
to keep moving irregardless.
As Vera Lynn once said:
we'll meet again, don't know where,
don't know when, but I know we'll meet again
some sunny day.
For now I take a bow
the curtain comes down
the world goes out
and I go inside.
I know we'll meet again, yes,
though I am not sure it'll be sunny
nor am I sure we'll meet in fact
for as I go inside,
I plan never to come back out.
That was my last bow, the last curtain,
the final act.
Goodbye it is.
Until time decides it's time
to reunite the ones who've been
apart for so long.
As for me, I don't belong
and I'd rather not.
There'll be an old clock
now long stopped
when you find this.
Please accept my bow,
hear the curtain call
and realize that after all
it's my time to go now.
I tell myself sometimes I don't exist, and that's comforting in a sort of sense.
I'd rather not exist, things would be far easier than they actually are.
Problems would be solved, or they'd never exist at all.
Denying my own existence gives me room to breathe without feeling observed.
If there's no self, there's no judgement and no society nor person to dictate the rules.
How delightful would it be if I did not exist at all.
But I do exist, therefore I can only comfort myself by repeating that I don't exist.

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Fryst Ă tĂma [frozen in time]. Own work, 05/2026.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I am the valley, I am death,
I am a million bees swarming,
I am the shadows of the past.
The darkness over the hills,
the clouds looming above,
the clocks going mute
and the flesh being torn.
I am the walk,
I am the core,
the last resource
and ever more.
I am always dancing
and I am always watching.
I am always laughing
while time passes.
I am the tree and its shadow,
and the sun and its light.
I am the passing of time
and the aging of the world,
don't cry over me, I will not die:
I will be forever more.
I am the light of the stars
eight million light-years afar.
I am the black hole and its darkness,
and I am the void and its nothingness.
Don't you cry when I'm gone
for I'll be everywhere you look.
And don't you weep when I go,
for I''ll be
at the valley.