#time passes

[nataliedecorsair]

As time goes by, some things change, but some remain the same I redrew my old art to see how much things changed. Also you can read about Pticenoga and Shade here >:) This AU has been with me for years and I still enjoy every little piece of it ＼o／ (you can see the hat he's giving to her here)

#pticenoga #harpy #siren #borderlands #borderlands art #borderlands au #alternative universe #shade #time passes #art #illustration #artists on tumblr #digital art #nataliedecorsair #natalie de corsair

[dreams-incorporated]

Properties of eternity

#weirdcore aesthetic #weirdcore #oddcore #eternity #time #time passes #time passing #time goes too fast #time is running out #weird #edit #nostalgia #nostalgic #dreams inc

[freshwolfhell]

#time passes

[drblogg]

yk how....3 years ago...all of us were just kids....

#time passes #i am about to graduate and do nothing with my life

[thecoldandcruel]

He’s tired of hiding it and she’s tired of denying it

#ulumi #code lyoko #ulrich stern #yumi ishiyama #my edit #time passes

[narbevoguel]

I feel the same about purah being dulled in totk, but I'm gonna pretend that its because she's been in charge of a lot more things while zelds and link went missing. AoC purah remains unmatched in personality

Oh yeah, definitely!

My theory is that in the years that pass between BotW and TotK she has realized that no matter how young she looks and acts, those great times she spent together with her gang are long gone and never coming back no matter what. Because she still had her spice in BotW, but she lost it all in TotK. Her scattered diaries imply that she does miss those old days working at the Royal Lab (nice mention to AoC shenanigans, or at least that's what I like to think).

Impa had Kakariko to lead, and a future (now) successor to take care of, Robbie got married and had a family to take care of, Zelda and Link with newfound duties that have them spend less and less time at the castle. The life she came to know and treasure, is no longer there. Now she has little Josha to train, I do hope she trains her well in the act of explosions, though, hah!

#ask and replies #ask response #legend of zelda #purah #totk #Time passes #People move #Like a river's flow #it never ends #That's the very first thing I did in this game #Look for all her diaries #As soon as I found out there were multiple

[matthewgallaway]

My flight went right over Washington Heights, which was exciting for a few seconds — I felt like a kid! — but then my feelings became a bit more complicated as I considered the idea that I’ve spent 98-99 percent of the past 25 years in this small cluster of streets and buildings and woods. As much as I love Washington Heights, it’s not a place I would ever call ‘home,’ which sometimes makes me nostalgic for other places I did call home. But ultimately this ambivalence — and the reason I may never leave — appeals to me when so much of the world is obsessed with linking their identities to a specific neighborhood, city, country, etc.)

#washington heights #manhattan #george washington bridge #time passes #airplane thinking

[undead-nothosaur]

The amount of things I never expected to happen but all hit me this past year is insane. Didn't have room but I also lost three of my closest friends over disagreements, cut off nearly all my hair, bought someone a car (accidentally) went to a furry con, saw Everyhting Everything live... this year was just so fast and insane.

#digital art #my art #sketchy sketch #fursona #furry art #my fursona #anthro art #new years art #looking back #time passes #its crazy

[thelittleclassicalsoul]

And suddenly

it’s warm again.

Summer is nearly here

and so is the death

of everything you knew.

#time passes #whether youre watching or not #enjoy the ride before you make it to youre next destination #writing #art #academia #writers #poetry #original poem

[purplerider]

i just remembered that i had a nsfw side blog and although it's currently deleted, probably my tits are still around

#purple talks #just a though i had #oh boy #time passes

[queenlua]

One day when Katri was out with the dog, Anna opened her work drawer, the only one of all her cabinet drawers that was always impeccably tidy. It had been closed all winter. Anna cared out a ritual that she always repeated when the first spring fog rolled in from the sea. She lifted out the teak case with its worn, carefully oiled finish and conducted a painstaking examination of her paints. No additions needed. She tested the soft tips of her brushes, marten hair, the best brushes you could buy. She contemplated all her materials carefully, and everything was in order. She put everything back in precisely the same place. She went out to the woods behind the house and dug a hole in the snow. There was moss at the bottom. She pressed her hand against the frozen earth and felt how the ice was slowly beginning to melt. But the moment was not yet, not for some time to come.

—from The True Deceiver by Tove Jansson

The house was left; the house was deserted. It was left like a shell on a sandhill to fill with dry salt grains now that life had left it. The long night seemed to have set in; the trifling airs, nibbling, the clammy breaths, fumbling, seemed to have triumphed. The saucepan had rusted and the mat decayed. Toads had nosed their way in. Idly, aimlessly, the swaying shawl swung to and fro. A thistle thrust itself between the tiles in the larder. The swallows nested in the drawing-room; the floor was strewn with straw; the plaster fell in shovelfuls; rafters were laid bare; rats carried off this and that to gnaw behind the wainscots. Tortoise-shell butterflies burst from the chrysalis and pattered their life out on the window-pane. Poppies sowed themselves among the dahlias; the lawn waved with long grass; giant artichokes towered among roses; a fringed carnation flowered among the cabbages; while the gentle tapping of a weed at the window had become, on winters' nights, a drumming from sturdy trees and thorned briars which made the whole room green in summer. What power could now prevent the fertility, the insensibility of nature? Mrs. McNab's dream of a lady, of a child, of a plate of milk soup? It had wavered over the walls like a spot of sunlight and vanished. She had locked the door; she had gone. It was beyond the strength of one woman, she said. They never sent. They never wrote. There were things up there rotting in the drawers--it was a shame to leave them so, she said. The place was gone to rack and ruin. Only the Lighthouse beam entered the rooms for a moment, sent its sudden stare over bed and wall in the darkness of winter, looked with equanimity at the thistle and the swallow, the rat and the straw. Nothing now withstood them; nothing said no to them. Let the wind blow; let the poppy seed itself and the carnation mate with the cabbage. Let the swallow build in the drawing-room, and the thistle thrust aside the tiles, and the butterfly sun itself on the faded chintz of the arm-chairs. Let the broken glass and the china lie out on the lawn and be tangled over with grass and wild berries. For now had come that moment, that hesitation when dawn trembles and night pauses, when if a feather alight in the scale it will be weighed down. One feather, and the house, sinking, falling, would have turned and pitched downwards to the depths of darkness. In the ruined room, picnickers would have lit their kettles; lovers sought shelter there, lying on the bare boards; and the shepherd stored his dinner on the bricks, and the tramp slept with his coat round him to ward off the cold. Then the roof would have fallen; briars and hemlocks would have blotted out path, step and window; would have grown, unequally but lustily over the mound, until some trespasser, losing his way, could have told only by a red-hot poker among the nettles, or a scrap of china in the hemlock, that here once some one had lived; there had been a house. If the feather had fallen, if it had tipped the scale downwards, the whole house would have plunged to the depths to lie upon the sands of oblivion. But there was a force working; something not highly conscious; something that leered, something that lurched; something not inspired to go about its work with dignified ritual or solemn chanting [...]

—from To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

#time passes

[garrulousgarbage]

"And the days move on and the names of the months change and the four seasons bury one another and it is spring again and yet again and the small streams that run over the rough sides of Gormenghast Mountain are big with rain while the days lengthen and summer sprawls across the countryside, sprawls in all the swathes of its green, with its gold and sticky head, with its slumber and the drone of doves and with its butterflies and its lizards and its sunflowers, over and over again, its doves, its butterflies, its lizards, its sunflowers, each one an echo-child while the fruit ripens and the grotesque boles of the ancient apple trees are dappled in the low rays of the sun and the air smells of such rotten sweetness as brings a hunger to the breast, and makes of the heart a sea-bed, and a tear, the fruit of salt and water, ripens, fed by a summer sorrow, ripens and falls … falls gradually along the cheekbones, wanders over the wastelands listlessly, the loveliest emblem of the heart’s condition.

And the days move on and the names of the months change and the four seasons bury one another and the field-mice draw upon their granaries. The air is murky, and the sun is like a raw wound in the grimy flesh of a beggar, and the rags of the clouds are clotted. The sky has been stabbed and has been left to die above the world, filthy, vast and bloody. And then the great winds come and the sky is blown naked, and a wild bird screams across the glittering land. And the Countess stands at the window of her room with the white cats at her feet and stares at the frozen landscape spread below her, and a year later she is standing there again but the cats are abroad in the valleys and a raven sits upon her heavy shoulder."

Peake, Mervyn. The Illustrated Gormenghast Trilogy: 100 Unseen Illustrations (pp. 619-620). ABRAMS, Inc.

#gormenghast #mervyn peake #gothic #titus groan #literature #time passes #do i sense an uptick in PeakePosting on tumblr? #yes I do

[freshwolfhell]

Cut is a Disney prince. Virginia is a Disney villain.

#time passes

[poprocklyrics]

Like the red rose of summer that blooms in the day Time passes slowly and fades away

Time Passes, Bob Dylan

#bob dylan #time passes #new morning #70s #1970s #70s music #music #lyrics #rock #country #pop

[observercamus]

#Beagle #time passes

[ishouldhavebeenabetterson]

wtf the fuck?

#i swear i created this blog when i hit post limit this... #oh my god #time passes