Plants are my aesthetic.

islamstan:

remember when you were a child and you thought the moon was following you in the car…gud times

(via may)

pussykraken:

my art peaked wen i was 4 or so and would just throw whatever shit i could find (juice, rainwater, plants, moss, shells, dirt, sugar, soap, rocks, milk, toys etc.) in2 a bucket n stir it with a wooden spoon 4 hours sitting in th garden n wen som1 would ask me wot th fuck i was doing i would b like “Potion”

(via hotboyproblems)

seal-of-unknown:

me, begging, tears in my eyes: please. please just tell me what the book is about. the plot. please

a book annotation on the cover, unfazed: A Subversive Masterpiece. A Deep And Touching Story. The New York Times Bestseller. Go Fuck Yourself

(via teenagerposts)

lifeinsillypictures:

having a little apartment in the picturesque town, growing plants on the windowsill and watering them in the morning, the smell of fresh bread from the nearest bakery, having a breakfast with your neighbor in the café on the first flour of your house, wearing silk dress, buying flowers for yourself and smiling to the strangers

teenagerposts:

i wonder how old i’ll be when i stop throwing up peace signs when i make eye contact with people

(via teenagerposts)

robotmango:

me, crouched down in front of my tomato plants, examining a pattern of insect bites on their lower leaves: i’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. i’m going to kill them for you. don’t worry, babies. I’m going to murder every single son of a bitch who ever got a mouthful of you. they’ll die screaming

my neighbor, who i did not realize was also outside, standing behind the fence: oh! okay. you’re talking to the plants. okay.

(via hotboyproblems)

liryae:

There is literally nothing in nature that blooms all year long, so do not expect yourself to do so.

(via may)

livingdeadpoetssociety:

confessionistt:

(via teenagerposts)