butcher bird saves things for later

References for drawings, sketches, nerd games, etc.
The Mountain Goats

—Shadow Song

sailorbirdie:

The Mountain GoatsShadow Song

If you get there before me, will you save me a seat?
If you get there before me, would you save me a seat?
And if I never get there at all
Would you leave the seat empty?

If you get there before me, will you light us a fire?
If you get there before me, will you light us a fire?
And if I never show, will you watch the embers glow?
Would you keep the fire burning?

This is a song for you
In case I never make it through to where you are
This is a song for you
In case I never make it through to where you are

(via kelsium)

tinycartridge:

The most beautiful Game Boys ⊟

I love, love, love these. I am SO tempted to pick one up and throw on a front light mod, then not play any other console for the rest of my life.

These gorgeous floral paintjobs come from Georgina, who makes and sells customized portables through her friend’s shop. If you want to commission something like this from Georgina, hit up her Tumblr.

BUY Game Boy games, upcoming releases

(via gendertank)

artsy:

“If you are in love with someone, there are such deep feelings you want to express, but words don’t do them justice so you end up repeating trite phrases from films or pop songs. I started to collect sayings from my friends and realized that the same ones were being recycled over and over.”—Jung Lee

artsy:

“If you are in love with someone, there are such deep feelings you want to express, but words don’t do them justice so you end up repeating trite phrases from films or pop songs. I started to collect sayings from my friends and realized that the same ones were being recycled over and over.”—Jung Lee

(via gendertank)

You are not mine to think about, but I still do.

I think about the way your body might feel between my knees or my palms; the way your face might look as I hover over or under you; the way your skin might smell in the darkness of midnight or in the late afternoon sun. I think about your mouth pressed against my spine in the dark. I think about your eyes closing as I kiss you. I think about how kind and brutal your lips would be to every inch of my skin.

I think about the simple things, too. I think about Sunday morning breakfast, and reading poetry out loud on Saturday nights while drinking whiskey by a fire, or the way you might look on a cold walk to nowhere in the middle of a December afternoon. I think about afternoons by the ocean, your palm pressed against mine, and the way the sea salt would smell in your hair as we fell asleep that night.

One moment we are eating olives and cheese from deli containers in the middle of Central Park on an early May afternoon, laying stomach down on a thin red blanket, reading books and watching people compete to be as in love as we are and the next moment my fingers are learning the way your skull becomes your neck, becomes your back, becomes the tender skin on the back of your thighs.

You are not mine to think about, but I still do—still know the way I would hold your fingers against my lips, my ribs, my hips, my heart if I ever got the chance.

—Kristen Fiore // How to Walk on Glass  (via girlvswhale)

(via girlvswhale)