HUGO IS DOING 46 FLIPS IN HIS GRAVE WTFFFFFFF ON EARTH
I’M AT LES MIS ANTWETP RN AND THE FUCKING BELGIAN ROYAL FAMILY IS HERE?!
29 notes
·
View notes
My new painting; he doesn’t need an intro 😄
1K notes
·
View notes
James Whistler (American, 1834-1903) - Nocturne in Black and Gold - The Falling Rocket - c.1875
10K notes
·
View notes
being in your 20s is like (unlocks repressed memory of being transgender at age 6) (unlocks repressed memory of being transgender at age 8) (unlocks repressed memory of being transgender at age 4) (unlocks repressed memory of being transgender at age 10)
22K notes
·
View notes
This is your sign to pursue transition and hrt! Dont argue, just go get your happiness!
2K notes
·
View notes
Pretend, for example, that you were born in Chicago and have never had the remotest desire to visit Hong Kong, which is only a name on a map for you; pretend that some convulsion, sometimes called accident, throws you into connection with a man or a woman who lives in Hong Kong; and that you fall in love. Hong Kong will immediately cease to be a name and become the center of your life. And you may never know how many people live in Hong Kong. But you will know that one man or one woman lives there without whom you cannot live. And this is how our lives are changed, and this is how we are redeemed.
What a journey this life is! Dependent, entirely, on things unseen. If your lover lives in Hong Kong and cannot get to Chicago, it will be necessary for you to go to Hong Kong. Perhaps you will spend your life there, and never see Chicago again. And you will, I assure you, as long as space and time divide you from anyone you love, discover a great deal about shipping routes, airlines, earth quake, famine, disease, and war. And you will always know what time it is in Hong Kong, for you love someone who lives there. And love will simply have no choice but to go into battle with space and time and, furthermore, to win.
—James Baldwin, The Price of the Ticket
37K notes
·
View notes
Moon, stand still a while
and tell me where is my dear.
Tell him, silvery moon,
that I am embracing him.
For at least momentarily
let him recall of dreaming of me.
9K notes
·
View notes
Elizabeth Shippen Green (1871-1954), ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, “Tales from Shakespeare” by Charles Lamb, 1922
Source
1K notes
·
View notes