I sang this song to my cats, those cats are dead now, I think this song has cursed me cuz I haven't sang this to my new cat, she's still alive and well

I hate love.. genuinely. I’m in love w my best friend and I’ll never be able to confess to her bc she has a gf… I can’t ruin that. She’s finally happy… :((

this song reminds me of rengokus death 😭😭😭❤️

𝕹𝖎𝖐𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖎 𝕲𝖔𝖌𝖔𝖑♡ | Nikolai Gogal playlist

poker face (slowed)

Good God!

Nothing's New

Mama's Boy

This Is How Tomorrow Moves

Real Man

*•.
"𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕖, 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕒 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖."

*•. 𝕫𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕚𝕖 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 - 𝕒𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕜𝕖𝕣 (𝕤𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕)

Nightcore - Mad Hatter [Melanie Martinez]

Puberty 2

I Bet on Losing Dogs

Bury Me At Makeout Creek

Francis Forever

ふたりのきもちのほんとのひみつ

Be the Cowboy

Washing Machine Heart

A Pearl

Nobody

Prom Queen

Mother Mother - HayLoft

art by @/rrrrpsak on twitter
omg this is blowing up, tysm !!! but pls check out my other stuff too ^^

miracle musical - murders (“all for nothing at all” part looped+slowed)

Montgomery Ricky

Mr. Loverman

Sometimes, Mitski feels life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what’s truly hers, what can’t be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. “The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people,” she says. “I wish I could leave behind all the love I have after I die, so I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I’ve created onto other people.” She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will shine love long after she’s gone. That’s precisely how it feels: like a love that’s haunting the land.

“This is my most American album,” she says. The music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. Sonically Mitski’s most epic and wise album, the songs introduce wounds and then actively heal them. Here, love is time-traveling to bless our tender days, like light from a distant star.

It's full of the ache of the grown-up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It’s a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything and everyone is crying out in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning and then rejecting us. To love this place, this earth, this America, this body takes work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

I Bet on Losing Dogs

Mitski

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