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maybeayat · 8 days
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are u ever sick w longing. and i don't just mean romantic longing. i mean longing for a place you barely get to see, longing for friends you no longer have, longing for feelings you might have left behind in your childhood, longing for creativity, longing for a rich and more expansive life, longing for less inhibition. longing for more passion. longing for ur life to be so incandescent w something it thaws all the frost in ur bones. are u ever so consumed w it it rends ur heart in two. do u understand me
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maybeayat · 10 days
Photo
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Sailor Moon on the runway
Koan: Mugler FW 1992, Setsuna: Chanel FW 1992, Serenity: Dior Haute Couture SS 1992, Hotaru: Mugler FW 1992, Calaveras: Christian Lacroix Haute Couture FW 1992
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maybeayat · 10 days
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Jurassic Coast, Southern England by Ernest de Kat
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maybeayat · 10 days
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[DAZED FROM BLOOD LOSS] hey not to kill the vibe completely but i think i am in love with you
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maybeayat · 10 days
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archive moodboard for @happyheidi <3
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maybeayat · 11 days
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Quickest way to my heart? Stab wound probably.
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maybeayat · 12 days
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Her
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maybeayat · 13 days
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I am not spiralling, I am just following a suspiciously curved path
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maybeayat · 13 days
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i am not my mother and i am not my father but a third worse thing
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maybeayat · 15 days
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about to watch the godfather for the first time it’s a little underground indie movie y’all probably never heard of it i love discovering things
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maybeayat · 18 days
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رمضان مبارک ✨🌙
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maybeayat · 19 days
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I've come to a conclusion that no matter what I do or how hard I try to do it, I'd still be a wasted potential to my parents and nobody can change that
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maybeayat · 19 days
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Something tragic yet beautiful. Something close yet mysterious.
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maybeayat · 20 days
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when someone said 'I'd always...' but I was literally the last person she said goodbye to. <3
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maybeayat · 20 days
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Currently
me: :(
the weather: ☁️⛈️🌦️🌧️🌩️
me: :)
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maybeayat · 20 days
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FOR THE PLOT 🤝🏻
shooting myself in the back of the head so my suicide looks suspicious and i waste everyones time
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maybeayat · 20 days
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“I had a room to myself as a kid, but my mother was always quick to point out that it wasn’t my room, it was her room and I was merely permitted to occupy it. Her point, of course, was that my parents had earned everything and I was merely borrowing the space, and while this is technically true I cannot help but marvel at the singular damage of this dark idea: That my existence as a child was a kind of debt and nothing, no matter how small, was mine. That no space was truly private; anything of mine could be forfeited at someone else’s whim.”  ― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House
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