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wallacepolsom

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
art blog(derogatory)
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tannertan36
hello vonnie
Mike Driver
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DEAR READER
Stranger Things
AnasAbdin
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
NASA
Today's Document

Product Placement

titsay

roma★

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@kinch-s
I put some water on to boil, to make pasta, and a Tete Montoliu record on the turntable.
I’ve woken up with some kind of bruise under my left eye. It hurts a little.
I went for a walk around Seville earlier. It was raining, but I didn’t really care.
Diary entry, 10th January 2016
Radiópolis, Sevilla
2015|10|02
Take it all back. Life is boring, except for flowers, sunshine, your perfect legs. A glass of cold water when you are really thirsty. The way bodies fit together. Fresh and young and sweet. Coffee in the morning. These are just moments. I struggle with the in-betweens. I just want to never stop loving like there is nothing else to do, because what else is there to do?
Pablo Neruda (via verkur)
Just when I had made my today Secure with safe yesterdays I see tomorrow coming with its pale glass star called hope. It shatters on impact And falls like splinters of cruel rain And I see the red oil of life running from my wrists onto tomorrow's headlines.
Spike Milligan, Small Dreams of a Scorpion
When it seems we have finally decided to stay home of an evening, have slipped into our smoking jackets, are sitting at a lit table after supper, and have taken out some piece of work or a game at the conclusion of which we customarily go to bed, when the weather outside is inclement, which makes it perfectly understandable that we are staying at home, when we have been sitting quietly at our table for so long that our going out would provoke general astonishment, when the stairwell is dark and the front gate bolted, and when, in spite of all, in a sudden access of restlessness, we get up, change into a jacket, and straightaway look ready to go out, explain that we are compelled to go out, and after a brief round of goodbyes actually do so, leaving behind a greater or lesser amount of irritation depending on the noise we make closing the front door behind us, when we find ourselves down on the street, with limbs that respond to the unexpected freedom they have come into with a particular suppleness, when by this one decision we feel all the decisiveness in us mobilized, when we recognize with uncommon clarity that we have more energy than we need to accomplish and to withstand the most abrupt changes, and when in this mood we walk down the longest streets - then for the duration of that evening we have escaped our family once and for all, so it drifts into vaporousness, whereas we ourselves, as indisputable and sharp and black as a silhouette, smacking the backs of our thighs, come into our true nature. And all of this may even be accentuated if, at this late hour, we go to seek out some friend, to see how he is doing.
Franz Kafka, The Sudden Walk
untitled by antipodeuse on Flickr.
August 2, 1914: Germany has declared war on Russia. Went swimming in the afternoon.
Franz Kafka
(via substantia-nigra)
Duane Michals, Things Are Queer, 1973