Cuno Amiet (Swiss, Swiss, 1868-1961), Baumgarten - Garten Auf Der Oschwand, 1925. Oil On Canvas, 72.6

found this old poem i wrote. i kind of like it and thought id share. feels like it belongs on my blog.

the peace of too much leans over me, grinning wide and yellow // not a threat, but a presence. // I walked down the road today and saw the setting sun in its blazing chalice, // saw winding roads with grass riding their middles. // I let out my arms like a sail on the downwind, // ready to be done. // relief etching itself on the mirror of my mind. // my scars are beautiful and hiding them seems delicately pointless. //  the scar tissue is a red reminder of loss and what my sullen brain has cost me. // it is a reminder that slashing and fighting and kicking gets you nowhere, only luffing // in the wide open bay. // at the bus stop I rolled up my sleeves and stared at my rope-covered forearms. // it was bright and green out. // I forgave myself // without letting go. 

girl help the eldritch horrors are organising a pride and prejudice party and making us dance to mirror their forbidden and repressed love. yes there is a michael jackson thriller video reenactment outside trying to get in. no yeah i still want that rare doctor who annual

An ombré in these trying times.

“Chickenstone” Swimmingpool for Chickens by Tommy Smits

i want to be on t so fucking badly i would give anything

im thinking in double

ive just been born into the world what are some good games for beginners

why does no one talk about how big kazakhstan is. that mf is huge