No— It Was The Sort Of Seeing That Unfastens The Lacrimae Rerum, Tears Of Things. We Drowned, Not Knowing

ENOUGH ABOUT BOOBS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE FUCKING COMET IS COMING

The sand would have rose with Anakin if the Jedi hadn't been rotten and selfish; acting like this they helped Ani's downfall and the birth of Darth Vader. Palpatine convinced him to join the dark side because there was no one else on the other side willing to help him.

Anakin + M for the minific thing, please

M. when it rains/snows/storms;

The palace doors were shuddering and clattering and hissing, shaken by the sand raging outside. It was furious, building onto itself, feeding the storm grain by grain like single drops feed seas on other planets he had only heard of in bits of stolen tales, conversations eavesdropped from people free to roam the galaxy as it pleased them. The noise was astonishing. The Desert was screaming, roaring, just like the slaves who died at the execution he had been obliged to attend to only a few days ago. They shared the same fierce dignity, the same fearlessness. It was said the Desert’s strength came to hover on their dying children if only someone dared ask for help. Sandstorm were the moment when every dead slave came back to life to throw their wrath onto the world. He knew that. He knew that without single grains a sandstorm would be nothing, and the raw, angry song those single grains were able to form together had always struck him. Sometimes, no matter how dangerous it was, no matter that he had too much respect for the Desert to defy them like that, he wished he could be outside, facing the sandstorm in the eye.

He kept brushing the mop against the floor, knelt on hot sandstone. There was dust all over the place, and Gardulla hated dusty aisles, especially during sandstorms, when sand used to sneak in from every crack and crevice of the structure and settle on every layer, on every spot, like a rough, gritty blanket. She wanted no Desert trace in her palace, because a Hutt can control the Desert, a Hutt can shut the Desert out. Anakin liked the dust he was cleaning away, though. He knew the truth. He knew sand could rise, and rise, and rise, and cover every Master’s throne, cover the palace, cover whole cities, cover entire worlds. He knew it could slip into the shackles’ gears and erode the steel, it could blows into Masters’ eyes and blinds them. Sand was powerful and unstoppable. He knew one day it would have set his people free.

They say the history of the west was written from the saddle of a horse, but it’s never been told from the heart of one… Not till now.

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron (2002) dir. Kelly Asbury & Lorna Cook

Knives! Get your Knives here for no particular reason!

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

Get em while they're cold, get em while they're sharp!

Special discount if your name is Brutus for no reason in particular!

Caves are weirder and more varied than you think

why is the inherent nature of life so tragic. how am i supposed to do or care about anything mundane. childhood is dead and i can never go back

I was having writers block and so I took a break and soon enough it was 3 in the morning and I had impulsively sewn together a tiny mouse you’re welcome

“The little dot we live on.” The Book of knowledge. v. 7. 1912.

Internet Archive

him: you better not compress down to your Schwarzschild radius tonight

me by 9pm: 

When the Oscar Wilde character drops, is his ability going to be called “The Picture of Oscar Wilde” by the same logic of “The Great Fitzgerald”?