I want to watch the stars die
© meliapond

dovewithscales:

water—damage:

wenchyfloozymoo:

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Dr. Gachey with foxglove, 1890

Some of Van Gogh’s best work was done during a period of his life that he spent in a hospital being treated for his mental health problems. I could be wrong but I think Starry Night was among those.

This is consistently the case. Creators tend to do their best work when they are in a healthy place and receiving proper treatment and not being self destructive in their efforts to cope. Go figure.

All our experiences, good and bad, inform what we create, but suffering is not the price of great art. Suffering is what prevents artists from completing great art.

posted 1 day ago with 303,562 notes

hamletthedane:

So, I follow this “bad commercial interior design” Facebook page and-

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posted 3 days ago with 110,608 notes

rococo-the-clown:

rococo-the-clown:

rococo-the-clown:

heaven011:

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Can’t quite cope with how much this looks like me and my dad

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It begins

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Photo credit to the exceeding bemused sound technician we bribed with two cans of Carlsberg to permit us access to his gazebo.

posted 1 week ago with 105,367 notes

nin-ei:

ruby-jubilee:

supreme-leader-stoat:

Whenever a new fantasy/historical drama comes out I eagerly look forward to the rants from the handful of people I follow on here who are deeply into historical fashion and costuming. It’s like

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I need you to FREAKING listen to me. Back when I lived with my parents my mom would watch Hallmark channel and there was this show called When Calls the Heart. It was supposed to be in like late Victorian era or Edwardian era……. I think? (they have early cars) And THIS is what the costumes look like……

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Literally all you had to do to make it quasi-believable was fix their hair/facial hair and give them hats. Also fix the character’s neckline, she’s the only character in the show where they’re like “no she must be hot and have a V neck”

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Ok sorry I had to get that out of my system.

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posted 1 week ago with 64,860 notes

antimony-ore:

tlirsgender:

The thing is that I don’t want to be employed but I also don’t want to be unemployed. I actually want our entire economic system to explode but that’s not really a feasible option right now

“ The thing is I hate that my only value as a citizen here is my ability to work, but I also know if I stop working I will not be able to afford to eat, will lose my home, and will no longer have medical coverage. I actually never wanted our system to fail, it’s just evident it wasn’t designed in a way that works and I’m tired of suffering, so it would be nice if it would fail faster.”

posted 1 week ago with 39,357 notes
, mood

unashamedly-enthusiastic:

rainbowdazzle:

screenshotsforencouragement:

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omg this made me emotional 😭

We named him after you we hope you don’t mind

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tummyacheworld:

tummyacheworld:

i respect people who want to keep their menstruation to themselves but i have to make it everyone’s problem. Literally if it was socially acceptable to lead every conversation with “I’m menstruating” i would.

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that’s exactly how it feels. say it

miksunko:

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My friend’s cozy little kitchen in Finland.

9th of July, 2023

posted 3 weeks ago with 19,664 notes

hamvendor:

hoobert-heever:

hamvendor:

hamvendor:

hamvendor:

Everyone in porno has a cute pink little asahole with no hair or hemorrhoids. A perfect little baby starfish. Not me. My asshole is a craggy PIT

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Link descending into my B HOLE

Gonna queue this up to reblog around 8am my time bc it’s not fair that only the British people get to suffer

it’s ok some of us are irish 💕

Your people have suffered enough

posted 3 weeks ago with 13,724 notes

firstfullmoon:

By August, we are sluggish with love and slide two / barrettes into the night of my hair. Like twin fireflies. / Like rabbit feet dyed blue and downhearted, stamping / the side of my head. July’s shadow is almost rot / and we haven’t spoken in days. I play pool with Mik / and count the ways he sinks ball after ball while I await / the doom of going second, soon regret letting him break. / I bet on this game. I bet on the waning of light, fame. I know / most things dim. It’s hot when I leave the bar and I say / Come, sun, you muscular star, thinking heatstroke / might strike this state of weather from my heart. / The trigger of seasons, the treasons of these city streets. / Orchard and Broome. We loom. We make reasons and room / for why things can’t work; we lurk into autumn. / We warm our hands for October’s plume. We say soon, soon, / soon something will be revealed. We fool no one / and are no one’s fool, least of all the late summer gods / who know a burn, who rope in hope, who prepare us / for a meal of dead light. In August, I want snow. I want July. / Midsummer prophet sight. Belief. Faith. A cathedral / with all her weight. A winter love. A new year. / A regal infancy. A Sunday, born.ALT

Megan Fernandes, “May to December,” in I Do Everything I’m Told

posted 3 weeks ago with 4,050 notes