Peter Solarz
AnasAbdin
todays bird
$LAYYYTER

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Product Placement
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Three Goblin Art

Love Begins

Origami Around
Sade Olutola
hello vonnie
styofa doing anything
No title available
trying on a metaphor
RMH
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

roma★

oozey mess
art blog(derogatory)

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@sijavaisletemps
que signifie ta description?
Ça veut dire "dans le paradis il y a l'amour sans séparation "
And I pause Where I am For a second When I hear your name
Woman (Reading) - La Dispute (via highcutie)
sulky grey blue: my favourite colour
There’s a corner of my heart that is yours. And I don’t mean for now, or until I’ve found somebody else, I mean forever. I mean to say that whether I fall in love a thousand times over or once or never again, there’ll always be a small quiet place in my heart that belongs only to you.
Beau Taplin • T h e C o r n e r (via afadthatlastsforever)
What a beautiful feeling is when someone tells you I wish I knew you earlier
(via ocheano)
massacre
the Syrian dictator Assad, along with Putin, are about to completely massacre an entire city - Aleppo. the Syrian army has taken over 98% of the city. families are sitting together, praying, knowing any minute will be their last minute on earth. civilians are tweeting their last goodbyes, sending out last minute pleas for someone, anyone, to help.
imagine that. sitting with the people you love, holding each other, hearing nothing but their harsh breathing and the clash of bombs completely destroying your home, killing your neighbors, your friends, you. just imagine that. i cant, i really cannot.
the U.N. has already called Syria the worst humanitarian crisis in this century. experts are saying this massacre rivals that of WW2 (not to take away from the holocaust) in terms of how heinous and completely disgusting it is.
i’m not the best with words, with conveying me emotions. but please take a moment out of your time to acknowledge this, at least. this is the worst humanitarian crisis happening on Earth right now, according to the U.N. this is a breach of human rights, of all our rights. you should be concerned, in the least.
Être attiré, se plaire, tomber amoureux, tout ça est assez ordinaire. Ce qui l'est beaucoup moins c'est quand on va plus loin que ça, quand on se met à aimer vraiment quelqu'un pour ce qu'il est intrinsèquement. Ce qui est encore moins ordinaire c'est quand deux personnes s'aiment pour ce qu'elles sont, indépendamment l'une de l'autre, et pour ce qu'elles sont ensemble : plus fortes, plus épanouies, plus complètes, grandies. Au fond, le vrai amour, c'est quelque chose de rare. Et tout ce qui est rare est précieux.
(via un-romantique)
non non non
Est-ce que tu penses à moi en te levant ? En déjeunant ? En te lavant ? En t'habillant ? Est-ce que tu penses à moi en marchant dans le froid du matin, lorsque ton souffle chaud se transforme en fumée pendant que tu respires ? Est-ce que tu penses à moi en cours ? Tellement que tu en perds le fil? Est-ce que tu penses à moi le midi, au milieu de tes amis? Le soir avec ta famille ? Est-ce que tu penses à moi pendant que tu travailles, tellement que tu ne peux même pas te concentrer plus de quelques minutes ? Est-ce que tu penses tellement à moi que tu peine à t'endormir ? Est-ce que j'apparais dans tes rêves ? Est-ce que je suis ta dernière et première pensée tous les jours ? Est-ce qu'il t'arrive d'être en retard, tellement tu es occupé à penser à moi? Est-ce que tu penses à moi quand tu m'aperçois au loin ? Quand je passe près de toi ? Quand nos regards se croisent et que nos mains manquent de s'effleurer parfois ? Est-ce que tu penses tellement à moi du matin au soir que tu en deviens presque malade ? Que tu doutes de ta propre existence ? Est-ce que tu m'aimes ?
There is a house built out of stone Wooden floors, walls and window sills Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust This is a place where I don’t feel alone This is a place where I feel at home ‘Cause, I built a home For you For me Until it disappeared From me From you And now, it’s time to leave and turn to dust Out in the garden where we planted the seeds There is a tree as old as me Branches were sewn by the color of green Ground had arose and passed it’s knees By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top. I climbed…
To build a home (via jesuisunpantin)
‘Spring Rain: Okwui Enwezor on Ai Weiwei and the Sharjah Biennial’
Detail of T-shirt with text from Mustapha Benfodil’s Maportaliche/Ecritures Sauvages