thyrell:

todaysbird:

todaysbird:

have you guys ever seen a hummingbird in its nest

x

bapy…

(via ebbing)

lifeinpoetry:

Dying is simple—

the body relaxes inside

hysterical light

as someone drafts an elegy

in a body too much alive.

Love is like this;

not a heartbeat, but a moan.

— Nicole Sealey, from “Cento for the Night I Said, “I Love You”,” published in PEN America

(Source: pen.org)

dankmemeuniversity:

(via theoceansaidno)

lopunny:

i don’t get the vegans that outright say their diet is “cruelty free.” sure, it doesn’t come from animals- but that doesn’t mean it’s cruelty-free unless you literally grow all of your food yourself.

quinoa? harvested by workers payed pennies a day. your strawberries? came from a producer using slave labor. your vegan chocolate? guess how the laborers were treated when harvesting the cacao.

i’m not saying you can’t be vegan, and i’m not saying that there isn’t animal cruelty in the meat & dairy industries (there is), but stop ignoring the cruelty towards brown & black workers who produce your kale, your rice, your bananas, etc.. there is no ethical consumption under capitalism, and it’s only more cruel to ignore poorly treated workers.

(via hedwag)

potato:

4soy:

why do potatoes have more chromosomes than us, what do they need them for??????????

thats none of your business

(via p-aeruginosa)

sixth-light:

warmheartworm:

tumblr sucked yet its the only thing people like us could ever have posted on. tumblr was a deep sea geothermal vent and we are all pallid, desperate crabs snapping at the dark toxcic nutrients spweing from its hole, and bringing us into the harsh light of the instagram influencersphere would kill us instantly. 

I study hydrothermal vents and I endorse this metaphor, especially the way it implicitly makes Yahoo a deep-sea mining company that doesn’t understand the role of vent fauna in the ocean ecosystem 

(via theoceansaidno)

lifeinpoetry:

“i put on a dress called woman for this day / but i am not grown away from you / whatever i say.”

— Lucille Clifton, from “february 13, 1980,” good woman: Poems and a Memoir 1969-1980

(Source: lifeinpoetry)