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Pearl Eyed Nomad
There is a moonlit night inside of me and a mat gleam cascading through my soul of haze. With one eye of pearl, I will reveal the hidden and forgotten by solely a wistful gaze.


Links

Words

Letters

The Past


 thalassic souls

Nope, still not back. Just updating. I’ll check any new follower and message I get when I can. Bye for now.

I’m sorry for the unexpected absence of posts these couple of months but I wanted/needed to be disconnected, again. I think I’m back now and I will check all the new followers and messages within this week, hopefully. 

moonzreg:

i’m insanely in love with the shapes of the human body.
and also i can’t stop admiring juvenility.

(Source: belladonna-of-suffering, via vacant-sweetness)

I wish I could write. I get these ideas but I never seem to be able to put them in words.
I was born with an enormous need for affection and a terrible need to give it.
My father used to say, ‘Don’t raise your voice. Improve your argument.’
My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery—always buzzing, humming, soaring, diving and then buried in mud. And why? What’s this passion for?
You lose it if you talk about it.
pearleyednomadart:

Favourite  shoes. Shoes for people. Shoes for aliens. Shoes for bears and foxes and badgers. Shoes for anyone who wants to wear shoes. Shoes.

pearleyednomadart:

Favourite  shoes. Shoes for people. Shoes for aliens. Shoes for bears and foxes and badgers. Shoes for anyone who wants to wear shoes. Shoes.

Look around you: I mean it. Pause, for a moment and look around the room that you are in. I’m going to point out something so obvious that it tends to be forgotten. It’s this: that everything you can see, including the walls, was, at some point, imagined.