Hmmm. Tumblr Mobile Update Looking Pretty Ugly

Fuck hostile architecture, I want unhostile architecture. I want benches to be designed to be as easy as possible to sleep on. I want little places for pigeons to nest to be purposefully put on buildings. I want people designing public spaces to think about what they'd be like to skateboard on. I want "Please loiter" signs. I want people to be kind. I want...

sometimes you meet a man who you swear hung the sun. you meet a man who makes you want to turn back time to undo every mistake you've ever made, to be as perfect to him as he is to you. you meet a man who scares you down to your core. you meet a man who is unable to imagine a life without you, who you speak to one time and the initial connection is so powerful that he draws you right out of your shell, and reveals bliss in the discomfort. you meet a man who you like, who entertains you, who listens to you, and who you want to entertain back, for hours, and whose stories you could hear until you're able to build a clear image of his entire life in your restless head. you meet a man who you make smile, who you cut off in the middle of a joke to kiss for moments, minutes, hours, and whose eyes hold every other star in the galaxy that they have yet to hang. you sometimes meet men like this, and the suns they catch and hang come from you. they draw the heat you hold inside your smoldering heart from your chest, and suspend it over you and the world, warming everybody with the warmth you've given to him.

society if silco had gotten vander’s letter and they hadn’t divorced, apparently

all day, a breeze dances in and out of the apartment. the windows, wide open. the sky gets dark around 7, and I turn on a low lamp and light two candles, content in the half-dim living room. a rain rolls in and I can hear the long-dry earth breathe a wet sigh of relief under its shower. the tv stays hushed and sleeping. my dishes from dinner wait in the sink. the candlelight flickers shadows across my notebooks. after a nap by my side, the dog pads over to the window for a better listen of the cars slicking over street puddles.

I've missed this. living alone. the way a night deepens my solitude. how each decision through the day has come to this: a quiet apartment, save for the sounds of my typing. four walls, warm and dim and perfumed by the sky just beyond it. I've missed this, closing down the kitchen on my own. watching the space around me fall asleep. comforted by the knowledge that I made this feel like home. I made this feel nice for me. every corner, a letter of self-love.

I'll unalive you

Repaired my fave jacket, got emotional, drew something about it

I love seeming chronically offline due to not using tiktok or Instagram

“god loves you” yeah but so does satan. so does everyone. conclusion? i am a brilliant whore

ghosta nova 👻🎸

(youtube)