Like A God of Wild Roses
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IG : @MIXRHOO
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(Source: tamaralich)

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I am trying to see things in perspective. My dog wants a bite of my peanut butter chocolate chip bagel. I know she cannot have this, because chocolate makes dogs very sick. My dog does not understand this. She pouts and wraps herself around my leg like a scarf and purrs and tries to convince me to give her just a tiny bit. When I do not give in, she eventually gives up and lays in the corner, under the piano, drooping and sad. I hope the universe has my best interest in mind like I have my dog’s. When I want something with my whole being, and the universe withholds it from me, I hope the universe thinks to herself: "Silly girl. She thinks this is what she wants, but she does not understand how it will hurt.

— THEORIES ABOUT THE UNIVERSE by Blythe Baird (via shroomfairy)

(Source: blythebrooklyn)

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The sun setting. The lawns on fire.
The lost day, the lost light.
Why do I love what fades?

— Mark Strand, opening strophe to “The Guardian,” from Darker: Poems (Atheneum, 1971)

(Source: apoetreflects)

nevver:

Can I borrow your tongue?
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hellsung:

slipperypeople:

Aerial | Baptise Debombourg.

Shattering glass flooding into a room of Brauweiler Abbey in Germany.

it looks like water

(Source: floatingiseasy)

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