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


titsay
dirt enthusiast
occasionally subtle
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Keni
KIROKAZE
hello vonnie
tumblr dot com
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

shark vs the universe
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
almost home

Love Begins
sheepfilms

Kiana Khansmith
Xuebing Du
$LAYYYTER
seen from Germany
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seen from India
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seen from Malaysia
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@tymberfalls

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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fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this
i need everyone to see the funniest fucking pigeon rescue in the world
I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’
Azra.T “My Heart is Full of Open Windows.” (via 5000letters)

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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life is still unfolding. let it surprise you. don’t be stubborn for too long.
Blue skies
they turn to grey
Black sunsets in your eyes,
am I dreaming?
Ul de Rico

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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“Today I forgive myself. Not just once. Again, and again, and again. As many times as it takes to find peace.”
— Unknown
nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom

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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this poem has been haunting me!
I wear your ring every day and I feel strange without it but I still don’t call it mine. I think I feel similarly about your loss. I stare at grief and try to call it mine, then feel terrible, then selfish. I stare at your grave and try to pray, then wonder what kind of grief prayer is. Maybe I should just tell you this. Your son will be getting on a flight tomorrow to go back to an island. He tries his best not to feel lonely without you and I am always, stupidly, trying to love him for you. It is always wrong but never is. I am wearing a necklace your husband gave me for my twenty-first birthday. He emptied your drawers within a week of your passing but hasn’t moved your purse from its place on the shelf since the day we took you to the hospital. I am trying to love them both but I am very bad at it. I am trying to use my whole heart but I am very bad at that too. I wrote this after all. Long-winded, long, winding way of using almost blinding sunsets and grown golden barley just to say, I think of you so often. We miss you so much.
— Sanna Wani, from “My Grief, the Sun,” in My Grief, the Sun