Even I Was The Richest Man Alive I Wouldnt Buy Tumblr Premium Because I Cannot Think Of A More Embarassing

everything I’ve ever written has been about you

@peaceful-poetry / water lilies — claude monet / this is how you lose the time war — amal el-mortar and max gladstone / vanishing interior — suzanne buffam / water lilies — claude monet / and then i tried — rene ricard / i’m writing another poem about you — mira lightner / water lilies — claude monet

Finally a ghost recognises them for what they truly are

How do you fall back in love with life?

clean your room.  clean space, uncluttered space, space that doesn’t have miasma clinging to it can work wonders.  clean the dishes.  sweep.  take out the trash.  peel the clothes off the floor and wash them, and then actually fold/hang them.  take a long shower.  scrub behind your knees.  brush your teeth.  (this can be utterly exhausting, but try to get it done in a day, if you can.  the end result is worth it.)

pull out your notebook.  it doesn’t need to be a new notebook, but preferably one that you don’t usually write in, or that you haven’t touched in a while.  fuck moleskins.  the yellow legal pad will work fine.  sit in your room, or in the park, or in the library, and write a list.  count clouds.  describe all the colors that you see, and note patterns that arise.  sketch the cracks in the walls.  note the shape light makes when it enters a space.  talk about what the air tastes like, smells like.  what sounds are there?  even the white nose, break that down: air planes, fans, cicadas, anything.  remind yourself that you are sitting in the middle of a space brimming with detail.  remind yourself that you are not in nothingness and emptiness.  your world is fathomless.  it has potential.

drink cold water and try to eat something that isn’t processed.  it does not need to be fancy.  buy yourself an apple with the change between your couch cushions.  eat it outside.  if you’re someone who walks, walk somewhere afterwards, just to stretch your legs.  take your fucking meds.  remember that its a good thing that you are inside your body.  your body is a fantastic and endlessly intricate machine, and even though society has smacked a bunch of poisonous ideas on it, that doesn’t change its inherent worth and splendor.  take care of it.

read a novel.  underline your favorite lines, and write phrases that twist your heart inside your chest on the back of your hand with an ink pen.  read a novel like it’s poetry.  read poetry, something decadent but unpretentious.  watch a movie you haven’t seen before.  if there are free art galleries near you, walk through one.  take your time.  let yourself bask.  if there are patterns in what makes your soul ache, write those patterns down – marbles arches or soot crumbling bricks or dandelions or descriptions of dresses or whatever it is, write them down.

your chosen family is important.  remember, they picked you as much as you picked them.  the love has no obligation.  it is given freely and it is given from a place of compassion.  you are not a burden.  if you need to breathe, take a minute by yourself and just exist, but remember to go back to your people.  when they need you, listen and be gracious.  always be gracious.  the universe sometimes remembers things like that.

listen to new music.  link jump on youtube or related artist jump on spotify or ask the chap beside you in the cafe what their favorite band is, and listen to that.  listen to something that you don’t usually listen to.  we tend to tie up a lot of memory with music.  we are falling in love again.  the soundtrack needs to be specific to that.  

allow yourself to indulge in romantics.  press flowers in old books.  play movies with subtitles and mouth the words.  dance in your room.  wear something that makes you feel good, even if you wouldn’t wear it in public.  write your chosen family letters, even if you hand deliver them.  write poetry, even awful poetry.  revel in its awfulness.  eat dark chocolate and when your chosen family want to go out, try to go out with them sometimes, even if its just to the market.  

another tommy thought ive not let go this morning is him being w a really talkative girl, and i mean she never shuts up; there's always something on her mind or something she remembers that she just has to tell him! and he listens patiently every single time she speaks, nodding along and adding commentary here and there and everyone is so perplexed by their relationship cos tommys essentially a stoic and hardly ever speaks whereas his gf can just keep going and going!

sukuna who is your self defense instructor and is always rough and mean to make his examples more “realistic.” and he’s got the most sardonic smirk when he stands in front of you and says, “okay, so pretend i’m the bad guy.”

but like meet awful. he’s a terrible teacher and is so taunting and mean you just kick him in the nuts and run out after quickly grabbing your bag. and you meet him again months later on a blind date.

           ☆_MOODBOARD MESSY ❕

私はあなたをとても愛しています、あなたはとてもかわいいです ❕🍶

Growing Up & Losing Friends

Fernando Pessoa, “A Little Larger Than The Entire Universe” | A. Timofeev, “Spring” | Mikko Harvey, “For M” | F. Scott Fitzgerald | Adele “When We Were Young” | Willem Haenraets, “A Letter for Two Friends” | Alain de Botton | Hishaam Siddiqi, “Where Did You Go?” | @honeytuesday | Edward Hopper, “Pensive Lady in Pink” | George R.R. Martin, “A Game of Thrones”

jjkafe | designed as a fix-it universe — come get your orders!

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Levi x Reader

Angst | Modern - Soulmate AU | 7k words

Summary : being dead since the 19th century, your 200-year-old house in the countryside had been sold to Levi Ackerman. He stumbles upon your old diary and reads it, only to slowly fall in love with you as he continues to read the pages.

Who would have known love could exist between two people separated, not only by centuries, but also by death itself ?

“ —in the next life, where there is no marriage, but where souls find each other through intimacy, may I attain true love. ”

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