Mom Said It’s My Turn To Be Ached For, To Have Someone Feel A Stab Of Hunger For Me, To Feel Nourishment

I love you thunderstorm lullabies. I love you foggy mornings. I love you misty days. I love you birds playing in puddles. I love you raindrop-bejeweled blades of grass. I love you cool breeze.

women in PHLEGM (poetry, history, language, english literature, ghost stories, music)

“i just like my alone time” i say as if loneliness hasn’t been all i’ve known since childhood

Victoria Chang, from With My Back to the World: Poems; “The Islands, 1961”

Fontainebleau State Park, Mandeville, Louisiana by Lana Gramlich

hey. don’t cry. crush four cloves of garlic into a pot with a dollop of olive oil and stir until golden then add one can of crushed tomatoes a bit of balsamic vinegar half a tablespoon of brown sugar and stir for a few minutes adding a handful of fresh spinach until wilted and mix in half a cup of grated parmesan cheese and pasta of your choice ok?

me when the disability disables me: oh what the fuck? this sucks. what the hell man!

my skills include daydreaming about living near the ocean

COLUMBUS, 2017 — dir. Kogonada

being in yr 20s is abt experiencing the worst thing you can imagine & then having to go to the grocery store