Or to walk.
HELLO, ALL. My name is Melody and I like cartoons and flowers and stuff. this is my safe place. Try to keep it full of good things most of the time, but I have bad spells from time to time too.

Be warned, there is no real consistency to this blog beyond "various subjects that strike my fancy"

Hope is not beautiful.

thriftwords:

Drudgery makes up my days
like nothing else, and I cannot
quite remember much more
out of yesterday, or last week
and last year might’ve been worse,
I’m not sure,
but I dare to blame drudgery for this:
its existence, making gravity thicken around my ankles
and the air taste sour
and the rooms of my life close in,
when it is I and my retaliation —
my refusal to accept what has been proven
night after wretched night: that

 there is nothing else

And I have walked on the same pieces of ground
specific twelve by twelve foot squares of frozen earth
for twenty years, but!
I still conjure up distant places
that sing to me in the stories of real travellers
that my steps will find,
and I shall be unknown, unstamped,
and they won’t have worn me down —
and I can still picture a closeness,
a whisper ‘gainst my neck
when I have only ever stood well away from
any kind of touch, a foot at least,
but might have been a thousand miles,
ever deep within my bones.

This place is not to blame
nor my oneness, nor the cold,
nor even cruel circumstance.
It’s this which spurs me on
sharp in my ribcage,
electricity and fire erupting in my veins,
the sharpness in my brow
when I look around and know today is nothing
and tomorrow will be nothing —
It’s the force the makes me see
in the morning, when I move again
into my putrid rituals
and another day of static.
It’s hope.

*vomits on keyboard*
*hits post*

enattendantlesoleil:

lol i’m pretty sure i actually embody everything my parents’ religion told me not to become i’m quite proud

"So therefore I dedicate myself to myself, to my art, my sleep, my dreams, my labors, my suffrances, my loneliness, my unique madness, my endless absorption and hunger - because I cannot dedicate myself to any fellow being."

Jack Kerouac (via hemingwayslemonade)

(Source: wordsnquotes)

myfemalegaze:

hullodearie:

Fake Pockets: A How To

Fuck fake pockets!

Finally started Gravity Falls!

My hair is a mess but my makeup game is hella today so here’s a selfie

Reblogged from rosalarian, Posted by oursuperadventure.
rosalarian:

oursuperadventure:

well… does it???(read more comics over at oursuperadventure.com!)

I’m pretty sure I have this conversation with someone every day.

rosalarian:

oursuperadventure:

well… does it???
(read more comics over at oursuperadventure.com!)

I’m pretty sure I have this conversation with someone every day.

Reblogged from detailsdetales, Posted by detailsdetales.

Bouquet of Flowers in a Vase (1862)
Gustave Courbet

Bouquet of Flowers in a Vase (1862)

Gustave Courbet

My computer seems to have a virus because it keeps changing my homepage back to some obsolete search engine accompanied by a sketchy ad for teeth whitening/weight loss
I deserve it though for the amount of illegal downloading I do