Surreal Desert House Minimalist Blue Door with Tree Shadow in Pink Sunset Glow.
by Ramy Hefny

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@kuroscrud
Surreal Desert House Minimalist Blue Door with Tree Shadow in Pink Sunset Glow.
by Ramy Hefny
Love to watch a movie by myself because I can select my precious 60s-70s French/Italian films that everyone else in my life finds boring but that constitute a big part of my creative inner world and activate my lust for life
genuinely one of the worst things that’s happened to television in the last few years (exacerbated by streaming services) is death of Filler. going from 20 episodes to 8 because “we didn’t really need that episode where the main characters went to the beach right? it had no long lasting effect” but we DID!!! we needed to see how they act without the Big Bad Plot and to establish the dynamics between the characters and lay in the sun (do they forget sunscreen? how do they react to a thieving seagull? do they get buried in the sand or do they do the burying?). the plot isn’t everything. the action doesn’t hit as hard without the quiet moments. give us character development and our little scenes back
The summer night glowed; in the field fireflies were glinting. And for those who understood such things, the stars were sending messages.
Louise Glück, from Midsummer in 'Poems 1962-2012’
i hate that inactivity decays things. just stay the same until i get back!!!!!!!!!
I love helping everyone rediscover the fact that the opening passage of My Immortal is a parody of the opening passage of The Vampire Lestat and not just a generic exaggeration of the typical fanfic Mary Sue introduction. One of the many delightful goth kid Easter eggs the author planted for the audience.
let the audience decide…
it was a deliberate nod to the opening passage of The Vampire Lestat (1985)
it was accidental
I think about you everyday, Midoriko.
Frank O'Hara, from Selected Poems
[Text ID: it’s April / no May / it’s May // such little things have to be established in the morning]
file -> phrases that are going to shift something in me forever
by Shuhei
I love that part of the evening when you can smell everyone’s dinner cooking
The people of Shanghai, 1995.
Photos by Gueorgui Pinkhassov.