nazgulfreak
Ridens
Scorpio sun - Leo moon - Libra rising
20 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
mowg420
Don't Fake It
ask-the-royal-absol
There Will Come A Ruler…
steevouk-blog
Untitled
thinp1aces
Thin Places by Pinn Jingkaojai
filipev2018
Sem título
Photo
» self preservation
created by: blck-xcvi, design instagram: @blck.xcvi
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
#fireandice #nazgul #lotr #lordoftherings #shrine #aesthetic #beachbunny #promqueen #genesis
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
The dark days don’t last forever // https://www.instagram.com/sunlightafterdark/?hl=en
24K notes
·
View notes
Text
“We all have souls of different ages.”
— F. Scott Fitzgerald; The Beautiful and Damned
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Types of People: Winter Months
December: Quiet with a rich inner world, keeps their bedroom gently lit with fairy lights and flickering candles, cat-person, loves stargazing and the scent of freshly peeled oranges, finds beauty in solitude, big fan of bedtime and hot cocoa, still has their favorite childhood blanket, collects fantasy novels, stays up all night writing stories, never lost their sense of magic.
January: Down-to-earth but optimistic, soft neutral sweaters, drinks vanilla lattes, little bit of a neat-freak, collects stationery, knows how to ice skate, good at origami and interior design, stays in touch with all their childhood friends, steady-handed master of the bullet journal and decorating sugar cookies, loves The Good Place and IKEA, always looking for new beginnings.
February: Restless with intense emotions, musically talented and boisterously funny, flushed cheeks, catches snowflakes on their tongue, has insatiable wanderlust, muddy doc-martins and goofy thrift-store sweaters, sends really long texts, prone to art museum dates and spur-of-the-moment haircuts, believes in the power of tenderness, loves sour candy and grand gestures.
3K notes
·
View notes
Photo
The moon hangs over the Sol Duc River and warmly lit trees at this popular fishing spot along the river.
Trevor Anderson
1M notes
·
View notes
Text
COnflict Poem
It’s a red room, over and over again as the bass in hips tangles and thrums
Over and over again
Right in a center that you do not treat nicely
You ripped it open and sucked it dry how to cope when it all falls out messy
I open further, bury more
So it goes.
To crash, smash, dance relinquishment rituals
You are a mouth, all consumption and pink
I am blue, cold and impatient in unforgivable florescent light
Give me the bones under your skin. Do not treat me like a child
So it goes- that I am in a mountain side forest
A mysticism and dread I only knew on school field trips
A soiled altar you called modern art and I laughed thinking “you’re so smart”
Spiritual expectation, where was the epiphany?
I rubbed your belly to rub out enlightenment
Rub it out of me!
That center, that rip
That stale boredom when I feel like a tantrum
And then your fingertip worm-like terrorists pulling me apart like receipt paper And hairspray aura Richter blurred eyelashes and twitchy looks And revolution doors touch activated And constant chatter the hinged jaws of clams when it doesn’t mean anything without that moist tongue And all damn day in the bathroom slaving with a razor but damn you’re a caveman! And music to fuck to without the commitment I’m lazy I have a headache I’m on the rag And religion in your kneecaps when you finally kneel down And caves where I am all alone pretending your husk is something more present And only a Vonnegut reference can directly implicate you- And so it goes
An LED lit screen in nighttime
The enveloping snores of someone else’s lover
Hinging around a statement, contract, and silent language
I think about the condom aisle and the vibrators that were out of stock
But so it goes.
1 note
·
View note