God Microsoft just fix this depression already
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Chiharu Shiota - Dialogue with Absence
Kenji Taki Gallery - Tokyo
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Least favorite lab equipment?
idk it really depends on the day
but my favorite lab equipment will always be our hand crank centrifuge
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Comfort // Deb Talan
When everyone has gone to sleep and you are wide awake
there’s no one left to tell your troubles to.
Just an hour ago, you listened to their voices
lilting like a river over underground
and the light from downstairs came up soft like daybreak
dimly as the heartache of a lonely child.
If you can’t remember a better time
you can have mine, little one.
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*cha cha’s real smooth away from academic responsibilities*
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I can't get the comment feature to work on my phone but (((hugs))).
I am so grateful today for my friends, helping cheer me up and realize that white boys ain’t shit. I’m not exactly heartbroken, since it wasn’t too long, but I’m mad he wasted my time. Moving on to the next thing, and anyone who wants to buy some Star Wars cuff links from me should hit me up since he doesn’t deserve them.
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play with matches if you think you need to play with matches
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Human vertebrae vs Humpback Whale vertebrae! Comparative anatomy is always a fun game at www.Prehistoria.ca!
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Don’t 👏 come 👏 out 👏 of 👏 your 👏 cage 👏 if 👏 you’re 👏 not 👏 doing 👏 just 👏 fine
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Roaming the hinterlands of a language I’ve forgotten how to speak
I learn the separations, the amalgamation, the reparations
my body makes. In this, I am not alone, it seems.
Over pots of rice pudding & daal, the women would curl
Their fingers inwards, heads swaying in the unholy heat.
The winter that came after, I started to cry in my sleep again,
But this time silently. Wrecked gems, flinging teeth
Caught in small hands before they scattered on the floor. Aasthe aasthe.
Everyone knows how to keep their pain quiet but me.
I make a racket every time, my face the daily tragedy of the 6 train.
And everyone knows: I have a body that sings itself into beast,
A body that takes takes takes, a body wanting to break more than anything.
Jism. Schism. Where was God when I needed to eat
& could only sink jagged nails into His earth instead? Where was God
When illness dug its way into me. When it turned everything into a stream
Of intangible objects, thrice-severed trajectories, the stillnessWithin the storm. To the taal of some fool’s tabla, the havoc He bade me wreak.
Spinning loneliness into a love that could sustain nobody, not even
The smaller beings. Not even those with wings. Lightning bugs we’d keep, as kids,
In jars with poked holes, knowing they’d never understand their own beauty.
It is nearly winter now and I am holding myself closed at each seam.
My body remains a dull blade. My mind
begs strangers on the street for relief.
Ghazal for the Wingless, Amrita Chakraborty (via sailsflyseaward)
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Peter Gardiner (Novocastrian, b. 1965, Newcastle, NSW, Australia) - Ravensworth (Swamp Lantern III), 2012 Paintings: Oil on Canvas
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Postcard / Olena Kalytiak Davis
Credit (pic) : @bidaisy
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sorry but it was too easy to do this
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“Votes for Women” stockings, 1910. Source: PBS Facebook.
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