forestgreenlesbian:

“January. It was all things. And it was one thing, like a solid door. Its cold sealed the city in a gray capsule. January was moments, and January was a year. January rained the moments down, and froze them in her memory: the woman she saw peering anxiously by the light of a match at the names in a dark doorway, the man who scribbled a message and handed it to his friend before they parted on the sidewalk, the man who ran a block for a bus and caught it. Every human action seemed to yield a magic. January was a two-faced month, jangling like jester's bells, crackling like snow crust, pure as any beginning, grim as an old man, mysteriously familiar yet unknown, like a word one can almost but not quite define."ALT

The Price of Salt, or Carol by Patricia Highsmith

samewave7:

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teeny tiny bear in a crocheted vest

sunsbleeding:

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rosarrie:

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just realised i never posted the original sketch of this guy

ahsteria:

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12/01

dazmerchant:

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Loewe X Howl’s Moving Castle

candiedsmokedsalmon:

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What does it mean to value myself? 2021 by Yumi Sakugawa

fairycosmos:

woman listens to song she used to love when she was fifteen 10 dead 20 injured 

liriostigre:

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Natalie Diaz, “Manhattan Is a Lenape Word.” Postcolonial Love Poem

creepish:

would you collect rocks with me. be honest

reemillustrated:

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sniffy<3

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pohroro