pole-danceswithwolves

[pole-danceswithwolves]

trust in the universe

[pole-danceswithwolves]

[pole-danceswithwolves]

"I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break."

-Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

[pole-danceswithwolves]

[pole-danceswithwolves]

i never want to contribute to toxic positivity so i want to acknowledge that sometimes things just suck and there isn’t a bright side. the best thing you can do in those times is take care of yourself as much as possible. maybe that means just brushing your teeth, drinking some water or calling up a friend. you don’t always have to be grateful for where you are in life. sometimes you have to get through some hard shit first, but i know that you’re capable of doing it.

[pole-danceswithwolves]

[pole-danceswithwolves]

cottagecore pottery

[pole-danceswithwolves]

THE LAST UNICORN (1982, Jules Bass and Arthur Rankin Jr.)

[pole-danceswithwolves]

[pole-danceswithwolves]

Recent bouquet illustrations

[pole-danceswithwolves]

🐰

[pole-danceswithwolves]

follow my ig: pinklouboutins

[pole-danceswithwolves]

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl 

[pole-danceswithwolves]

PRIMAL dir. Genndy Tartakovsky  Spear and Fang - Season 1, Episode 1

[pole-danceswithwolves]

[pole-danceswithwolves]

hello I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. The anonymity of tumblr means that I associate my idea/image of you with your icon and sometimes I look at people’s icons and I’m like ‘hmmm….what is that and why?’ 

so pls reblog this and comment in the tags the meaning behind your icon and why you chose it. this is a social experiment. do it for science pls.

[pole-danceswithwolves]

I don’t laugh out loud

I used to but I don’t now

It never served me

so my brain deleted the parts of itself that trigger the sound of joy

The human brain is funny like that

She only keeps things that are familiar

Once, he said there was

nothing more pure than the innocent joy of her laugh

and I wasn’t jealous of her

but I was sad

no one can adore my laughter, because

I don’t laugh out loud anymore

I don’t think it would sound right if I could

not like a bell, or a bird,

nor the sweet tink of a candy jar

And when it bubbles up it’s all at once and it doesn’t sound like laughing

it sounds like my body begging

I want to feel that, too

bursting forth past the dried bits that had clogged up my throat

Too loud

Too abrupt

Too much pressure behind it

Like it isn’t my lungs’ first language

Like I’m trying it out for the very first time

Like I’ve heard of laughter but never practiced it

I don’t know if there’s a cure for apathy

but has anyone checked in the smile lines?