1. the silken ghosts of spider webs linger on a bathroom window

  2. (Source: oneneatcat, via homestarrunner)


  3. professorsugoi:







    (Source: , via inconveniencewhitepeople-deacti)

  4. amandaonwriting:

    11 Untranslatable Words From Other Cultures

    Follow the link for the source

    committing these to memory asap

    (via littlestp123)


  5. careandkeepingofaheart:

    tonight the words are very strong in her head. picking at the edges of her clothing until everything begins to unravel there was a peace and then there was a great CRACKING and now the words are flowing through the hole she scratched with the old habits

    "…worthless useless no good…"


  6. careandkeepingofaheart:

    I was made out of the same clay as the first woman, the same clay as every woman. Soft and easy to tug and pinch and stretch to be just the right vessel, if you know what you’re doing. Nobody seems to remember how to do that anymore. You let us sit and dry out too fast, and when you pull our…


  7. When the porch light stopped working, they should have gone back inside. Instead they remained still, just as they were a moment before: Separate, but close; the lips of their drink glasses nearly kissing in their hands.

    They waited, as though expecting the light to come back at any second. They waited, letting the long sigh of the laugh they’d just shared fall gracefully into each other’s skin. They waited, senses tuning in to the dark and open air. They waited, and listened.

    To the cacophony of insects unseen and so close by. To ice melting, shifting and clinking against chilled glass. To the particular way someone breathes while they’re smiling. To some animal, padding along the moonlit grass and leaves.

    Soon enough they could see that they were moonlit as well. And they saw each other, again.

  9. (Source: patakk, via nprmusic)


  10. Proxima

    After the sun, the next nearest star is 4.2 lightyears away. That means, travelling at the speed of light (which is really, *really* fast, by the way) it would take over four years to reach it. Looking up at night at that star means looking up at light that is already 4 years old.

    I think about this and I wonder how old the light I’m looking at is, and how small and new and inconsequential it feels to be under the vintage light of old stars.

    I meditate on all of this as I try to ignore how much it makes me want to fuck.