Porcelain Ash
My beau ❤️

My beau ❤️

thelovelyseas:

Orca or Killer Whale (Orcinus orca) travels down opening leads of ice, making deep dives under ice to hunt Antarctic Cod, McMurdo Sound, Antarctica by Norbert Wu  / minden pictures

gavinscreamingmichaelyelling:

time-is-a-many-splendored-thing:

douglasmurphy:

rainbowcoffin:

c-h-0-w:

nightwife:

Always reblog

Woah

well he really should have worn more protective clothing if he didn’t want that to happensounds to me like he was asking for it

Are we really sure he was actually shot and decapitated? Idk, sounds like something he would’ve made up. Guys make false decapitation accusations all the time, you know. 

If he didn’t want to be decapitated, he shouldn’t have worn a shirt that showed off his neck

I mean, not all woman decapitate people. I’m not like that.

gavinscreamingmichaelyelling:

time-is-a-many-splendored-thing:

douglasmurphy:

rainbowcoffin:

c-h-0-w:

nightwife:

Always reblog

Woah

well he really should have worn more protective clothing if he didn’t want that to happen
sounds to me like he was asking for it

Are we really sure he was actually shot and decapitated? Idk, sounds like something he would’ve made up. Guys make false decapitation accusations all the time, you know. 

If he didn’t want to be decapitated, he shouldn’t have worn a shirt that showed off his neck

I mean, not all woman decapitate people. I’m not like that.

ilovewords:

[ i l o v e w o r d s ]

jaclcfrost:

but if a playground doesn’t have swings is it really even a playground. or is it just. a disappointment

defekait:

majortvjunkie:

who are they

the geese from Aristocats still going hard as hell

Fuuuuck

While he told me, I looked from small thing
to small thing, in our room, the face
of the bedside clock, the sepia postcard
of a woman bending down to a lily.
Later, when we took off our clothes, I saw
his deep navel, and the cindery lichen
skin between the male breasts, and from
outside the shower curtain’s terrible membrane
I called out something like flirting to him,
and he smiled. Before I turned out the light,
he touched my face, then turned away,
then the dark. Then every scene I thought of
I visited accompanied by a death-spirit,
everything was chilled with it,
each time I woke, I lay in dreading
bliss to feel and hear him sigh
and snore. Near sunrise, behind overcast, he got
up to go in and read on the couch,
as he often did,
and in a while I followed him,
as I often had,
and snoozed on him, while he read, and he laid
an arm across my back. When I opened
my eyes, I saw two tulips stretched
away from each other extreme in the old
vase with the grotto carved out of a hill
and a person in it, underground,
praying, my imagined shepherd in make-believe paradise.
"While He Told Me," Sharon Olds (via sdjalinger)
lizclimo:

good thinkin
Drawn by Liz Climo [tumblr | twitter]

lizclimo:

good thinkin

Drawn by Liz Climo [tumblr | twitter]