1. round and around we go

    round and around we go

    14 hours ago  /  0 notes

  2. 14 hours ago  /  0 notes

  3. 14 hours ago  /  0 notes

  4. nemfrog:

Plate XV. Nébuleuses. Les Étoiles. 1895.

    nemfrog:

    Plate XV. Nébuleuses. Les Étoiles. 1895.

    (via scientificillustration)

    16 hours ago  /  264 notes  /  Source: archive.org

  5. 20 hours ago  /  0 notes

  6. My coworkers went to eat spicy chicken. I wasn’t tempted to hang out for that, despite hearing a mention of gay bats, which intrigued me, though it was definitely something lost - or probably gained - in translation. I have found the best way to walk in midtown is staring down at the ground, seeing/not-seeing sneakers and feet. Volleyball players corral themselves up Broadway in a long chain of orange, looking in control. All day, men stare at my legs. One white bum calls, “Anyone got a dollar? Those are nice leggings, give me a dollar.” Wow, baby — ooh!

    I’ve been having these moments where water realizes for me: I’m part of something. The scope of it is beyond me. In the shower. By the river. Even here, between 29th and 30th streets, standing apart from lunch-daters, feeling more akin to a metal crane than these humans; actually, it’s sort of a pretty place if you step back.

    Have you seen this infinity pool though? For real, look at this oasis. If I could dive in, where would it take me?

    Don’t look at the sad trees surrounding it, who haven’t been fooled into thinking they can thrive on the air here. Don’t remember bonding over others’ faults. Don’t remember.

    I heard a man pronounce “insouciant” or “intercede,” but my brain wants to hold onto the sound as “interosseous,” the way it wants to churn pieces of your memory into the sensual intermezziary bits that kept us attached. Suddenly I’m in the flesh aisle at WholeFoods, blissfully oblivious to the gaping cuts of once-animate beings, lurking behind me. In a blind panic I realize there’s nothing here that I want, yet can’t find the exit.

    Posters for sale on a sidewalk table illustrate parts of the brain. I wonder where exactly, in my brain, these small transformations happen; where do these silent inspirations live, hidden and homeless but not hopeless. How can I let go of the way you appreciated me, or even just stop remembering the way you admired my use of semicolons?

    When I find myself in the light and rediscover the way my ribs expand to let my lungs operate, two workers are repositioning a construction tower directly in line with my feet. Their tension breaks into laughter as a pail falls, sending white powder upwards. Head, clouds, shoulders, toes, bones, peace; hope, release.

    Release.

    20 hours ago  /  1 note

  7. hold me swinging wings, be still lil tachyarrhythmia we’re all beach babies

    20 hours ago  /  0 notes

  8. photo

    photo

    photo

    21 hours ago  /  1,169 notes  /  Source: vvni

  9. 21 hours ago  /  0 notes

  10. smoking sky 

    smoking sky 

    21 hours ago  /  0 notes

  11. the ramble is a lot easier to navigate when you’re sober

    the ramble is a lot easier to navigate when you’re sober

    21 hours ago  /  0 notes

  12. a marriage begun
    with a fender bender, a sneeze,
    a mutation, a raid

    Poem Without Forgiveness

    1 day ago  /  0 notes