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i love the helpless and hopeful yearning of film grain melancholia and patina tears.

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(via cvstle)

Source: oddhour
agentlemansconfessions:

Part of the agenda for tomorrow.

agentlemansconfessions:

Part of the agenda for tomorrow.

(via paint-me-a-pretty-picture)

awwww-cute:

It’s rainy season here in Florida, and Nymeria can’t stand the thunder. The only way to calm her down is to hold her like this

awwww-cute:

It’s rainy season here in Florida, and Nymeria can’t stand the thunder. The only way to calm her down is to hold her like this

(via thatsmoderatelyraven)

ionicsky:

extrasad:

Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because 
I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside
of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.
The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told
me you didn’t love me anymore and lava flooded
my body and hardened till I stopped sleeping.
I had stars in my lungs but I burned them
all out with the cigarettes I was smoking
to get you the fuck out of my throat. The
flowers growing at the bottoms of my 
stomach are dead. Apparently you  
can’t water flowers with vodka.
I had the sky in my veins but it’s
been pretty fucking stormy since I
ripped them open. I had planets 
on the tip of my tongue but
the debris from the shattered 
remains of “us” have been
crashing into them. I was
everything. And then I met
you and we were everything.
Now you’re fucking some
blonde girl who gets
high all the time and
I’m a fucking
mess.

this is my favorite fucking poem ever ever ever

ionicsky:

extrasad:

Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because 

I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside

of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.

The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told

me you didn’t love me anymore and lava flooded

my body and hardened till I stopped sleeping.

I had stars in my lungs but I burned them

all out with the cigarettes I was smoking

to get you the fuck out of my throat. The

flowers growing at the bottoms of my

stomach are dead. Apparently you  

can’t water flowers with vodka.

I had the sky in my veins but it’s

been pretty fucking stormy since I

ripped them open. I had planets 

on the tip of my tongue but

the debris from the shattered 

remains of “us” have been

crashing into them. I was

everything. And then I met

you and we were everything.

Now you’re fucking some

blonde girl who gets

high all the time and

I’m a fucking

mess.

this is my favorite fucking poem ever ever ever

(via lussxh)

How il-loom-inating. I am restoring a very rusty old four shaft #loom ! Weee, vinegar and sand paper abound. #weaving

How il-loom-inating. I am restoring a very rusty old four shaft #loom ! Weee, vinegar and sand paper abound. #weaving

Source: brandos
#crop #lostcause #ink #brush

#crop #lostcause #ink #brush


The restless, perpetual wanderer is shown crouching near the corpse of a young woman that has washed ashore. Weary of his seemingly endless earthly existence, Assuerus is grief-stricken by this display of premature loss of life and envies the woman’s eternal rest. 


The Mystery of Life (detail) Carl Marr
Ringling Museum of Art, FL
image by Andy Espinoza

The restless, perpetual wanderer is shown crouching near the corpse of a young woman that has washed ashore. Weary of his seemingly endless earthly existence, Assuerus is grief-stricken by this display of premature loss of life and envies the woman’s eternal rest. 

The Mystery of Life (detail) Carl Marr

Ringling Museum of Art, FL

image by Andy Espinoza

The Mystery of Life by Carl Marr, 
Ringling Museum of Art, FL

The Mystery of Life by Carl Marr, 

Ringling Museum of Art, FL

Honey-boo-basket, I love you!  You are my most bestest creation!  #handwoven #basket

Honey-boo-basket, I love you! You are my most bestest creation! #handwoven #basket