Happy 4th of July from the wall. (at East Side Gallery)

JVL
No title available
styofa doing anything
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
AnasAbdin

izzy's playlists!
h
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Andulka

PR's Tumblrdome
ojovivo
dirt enthusiast

titsay
Today's Document
i don't do bad sauce passes
YOU ARE THE REASON

if i look back, i am lost
RMH

seen from Malaysia

seen from Finland
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Belarus
seen from Netherlands

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Egypt
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from China
seen from Latvia
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
@chrisfountain
Happy 4th of July from the wall. (at East Side Gallery)
Happy 4th of July from the wall. (at East Side Gallery)
Happy 4th of July from the wall. (at East Side Gallery)
Happy 4th of July from the wall. (at East Side Gallery)
Super Sunday #latepost #supersunday (at New Orleans, Louisiana)
Super Sunday #latepost (at New Orleans, Louisiana)
'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit. 'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.' 'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?' 'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.
margery williams
Musically speaking, the years 1969 and 1970 were not good years for me. Raised on the Yardbirds, Cream, Jimi Hendrix, Big Brother and Blue Cheer, I watched in mute horror as my friends and fellow enthusiasts melted away into the more melodic, thoughtful, easy listening arms of Poco, Gram...
I must say tonight that a riot is the language of the unheard.
mlk
because the sun sets here too.
in long beach, california.
This week, along with my crew, some cameras and a very cool heli-drone, I move from the narrow streets of Zanzibar’s Stone Town to the breathtaking, wide open spaces of mainland Tanzania.
Africa is a continent. It’s not a country. This, unfortunately, is a notion that needs to be constantly...
los angeles
I am aware, that many object to the severity of my language; but is there not cause for severity? I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject, I do not wish to think, or speak, or write, with moderation. No! No! Tell a man whose house is on fire, to give a moderate alarm; tell him to moderately rescue his wife from the hand of the ravisher; tell the mother to gradually extricate her babe from the fire into which it has fallen; - but urge me not to use moderation in a cause like the present. I am in earnest - I will not equivocate - I will not excuse - I will not retreat a single inch - AND I WILL BE HEARD. The apathy of the people is enough to make every statue leap from from its pedestal, and to hasten the resurrection of the dead.
William Lloyd Garrison (1831)
this will be my child
#indigenouspeoplesday
fotoautomatica // firenze // italy // 35mm
by Malte Grüner (maltegruener.tumblr.com)
the photo booth
gonna go burn some sulfur or something.