Good morning everyone, and happy wednesday. Today you get the story of my inspiration for crediting the icon site where I find every one of thse icons. There used to be someone on xanga called just_some_icons_silly. Not sure if she's still around, but hers was one of the first icon sites that I saw, and she would always give extensive credit. I thought that was an awesome thing for her to do. Didn't realize how much work it was until I tried to do it. ^_^ But really, it's worth it. You icon people are awesome, and you deserve credit.
Disclaimer: I did not make any of these icons; they were made by wonderful, fantastic, and attractive people...who are unfortunately not me. So, every icon site I took these from is listed below the icons and credit for photos is always listed directly below the photo. If you see some of your icons but weren't credited, feel free to tell me and I will add your name to the list.

























































credit to: acid_icons, coioperated_icons, x3RAWR>icons, aaxo_icons, mellifluous_quotes, gingerspiceee, ohlovelyy, seaspecter, lyudaaaa, bonvoyage_icons, indierocks88, theblueeyedg1rl, glamikonz, icons___0crazy, perhapsless, woahh__me
I have been wondering
What you are thinking about, and by now suppose
It is certainly not me.
But the crocus is up, and the lark, and the blundering
Blood knows what it knows.
It talks to itself all night, like a sliding moonlit sea.
Of course, it is talking of you.
At dawn, where the ocean has netted its catch of lights,
The sun plants one lithe foot
On that spill of mirrors, but the blood goes worming through
Its warm Arabian nights,
Naming your pounding name again in the dark heart-root.
Who shall, of course, be nameless.
Anyway, I should want you to know I have done my best,
As I'm sure you have, too.
Others are bound to us, the gentle and blameless
Whose names are not confessed
In the ceaseless palaver. My dearest, the clear unquaried blue
Of those depths is all but blinding.
You may remember that once you brought my boys
Two little woolly birds.
Yesterday the older one asked for you upon finding
Your thrush among his toys.
And the tides welled about me, and I could find no words.
There is not much else to tell.
One tries one's best to continue as before,
Doing some little good.
But I would have you know that all is not well
With a man dead set to ignore
The endless repetitions of his own murmurous blood.
Anthony Hecht, “A Letter”

grungegypsy
thetugboatcomplex
one_away_from_completion
ailes_dange
theblueyedg1rl
indierocks88
one_away_from_completion
later all!
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