Ray of Light | Madonna
Acquired Stardust
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we're not kids anymore.

titsay
hello vonnie
Game of Thrones Daily

Kaledo Art

pixel skylines

roma★
will byers stan first human second
styofa doing anything
ojovivo
dirt enthusiast

★

shark vs the universe
Three Goblin Art

if i look back, i am lost

⁂
RMH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@on-the-move
Ray of Light | Madonna
West Berlin Kurfürstendamm March 1979. This lady looks striking, maybe she was someone famous.
Werner Feiersinger, Untitled (Barcelona), 2012 Galerie Martin Janda
Home is where the gold is ⚱️ (hier: Friedrichshafen)
Hochzeitssaison ist eröffnet #justmarried (hier: Karlstraße)
A Chinese couple on a bicycle take cover beneath an underpass as tanks deploy overhead in eastern Beijing, on June 5, 1989. (AP Photo/Liu Heung Shing)
José Lourenço, ice cream paint brushes, 2017
Karla Black
chrisv_photo on Flickr.
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
Sylvia Plath (via purplebuddhaproject)
Still from Luc Lagier’s Kieslowski, Polish filmmaker.
“People are very lonely in general, I think, regardless of where they live. I often see this because I work abroad…I see that what really troubles people most and what they deceive themselves about most - because they won’t admit it - is loneliness. It’s the fact that they haven’t anybody to talk to about really important matters. It’s the fact that through the increasing ease of everyday life what used to be important has, as it were, disappeared[…]. I get the impression, more and more, that although people are lonely, many of them, paradoxically, want to get rich to allow themselves the luxury of being alone, of distancing themselves from others… . On the one hand, people are terribly afraid of loneliness. When I ask: what are you really afraid of?, I often hear the reply “ I’m afraid of being alone”…and yet, at the same time, there’s this urge to be independent. Each of the characters in “A short story about killing” lives alone and is, in fact, incapable of doing much. They can’t decide about anything other than their own fate.”
Kieslowski on Kieslowski, ed. Danusia Stok.
alton mason for fila x uo
In 1961 Pablo Picasso painted and signed the bottom of the pool at Villa El Martinete, the Marbella, Spain, residence of his friend, celebrated flamenco dancer and actor Antonio Ruiz Soler.
Creeping on my neighbours. #roomwithaview (hier: Ciudad Autónoma de Buenos Aires)