half-open windows just after the heaviest rainfall of the week/ petrichor that he loves so much/ a feeling of loss and gain all at once/ tears ricocheting just like T-swift sings/ an impending decision's finally made/ a little prayer said/ the windows are now closed/ memoirs of him to be buried/ one-at-a-time
|AUTUMN 2020|
|OCTOBER 6|
15:31: Cloudy, blue skies and a constant feeling of reaching out; an impulse to grasp and hold onto your hand and caress it with feather-soft touches.
You’ve always been my favourite cup of hot coffee on the chilliest of winter nights, my ‘conversations in the dark’ and of course, my heartiest hug after bad days.
Still,
You’re the hardest to write about.
You’re the…
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I collected a bunch of “haha I don’t have 2020 vision” “oh God not like that” posts
So, a part of me feels like I'm not completely over all the songs on #lover and Taylor Swift just drops #folklore and uhhh..?..?.. how do I move on this fast?
i will turn you into a fucking pdf if you dont stop
A scream erupted outside as I was at my desk on warm Thursday evening. I went about my tasks; A scream erupted at midnight as I was scrolling through my phone. I went on with my leisure time; unbothered I could on with the number of times something as such had already occurred, but could I even recall? I can however, recall a shrill cry of pain I had heard two days ago and I was about to go on…
I think sometimes we just have to risk it. Live the way we feel. And you know it, it might not turn out well. Sometimes it doesn’t turn out well at all. But we have to try. We have to keep on trying. Otherwise, we just become puppets. All painted smiles outside, while inside nothing but sawdust.
Little Ashes (2008) dir. Paul Morrison
tumblr is so quite. all other social medias have this chaotic loud energy and here is like "shh dude, calm down", i think is because nobody really cares about going viral, no one cares about their toughts being shared, they just write them anonimously, kinda like a coping mechanism
“We want ‘poems that kill.’ Assassin poems, poems that shoot guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys and take their weapons leaving them dead.”
— Amiri Baraka
“The idea of a perfect date”
//MONSOON 2021// /JULY 2/12;08am How perfect can a perfect date actually be? Does every little detail play out the way the initiator planned it to be? Or does it have to follow a certain norm dictated and infused into our minds by media?My idea of it is far from it. In fact, it can be summed up in four words. Before I get to that, I’m pretty sure there’s going to be a lot of differences on how…
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