#tiwb

[the-infamous-wine-bottle]

There was a boy

A very strange, enchanted boy

They say he wandered very far, very far

Over land and sea

A little shy and sad of eye

But very wise was he

[the-infamous-wine-bottle]

Thank you for tagging me @ermalmeta , I appreciate it every time (and this one sounds pretty fun!)

The rules are: list 10 artists you like before answering some questions

Troye Sivan

The Beatles

Ermal Meta

Fabrizio Moro

Green Day

... i dARI

Judas Priest 

Fabrizio De Andrè 

System of a down

Chris Hadfield

What was the first song you heard by 6?

Oh boy, it’s Wale (tanto Wale) and I’ll never forget about it. Listen, I was eight years old and listening to a song with the words “si fottano”, “i cazzi miei” and “va’ a cagare” just screamed cool and rebel to me. That’s how I ended up falling in love with Dario, dressing as an Emo (aka: “braccialetti con le borchie dei venitori ambulanti, capelli davanti agli occhi e croci fatte con lo scotch”) and going to their concerts for a bunch of years. I regret nothing.

What’s your favourite song by 8?

His songs are all beautiful. My faves are La canzone di Marinella, Volta la Carta and La ballata dell’amore cieco but it’s really difficult to choose. 

What kind of impact has 1 left on your life?

I used to listen to him when I felt really down some years ago. I haven’t fully listened to his newest album yet, but I like his music, the way he managed to capture emotions. I’d say his music probably reflected the way I felt and that’s why it had an impact on my life. He’s quite sincere in his music.

How many times have you seen 4 live?

I’ve seen Fabrizio live once and it was a very nice experience. His concert was cool, chill and powerful at the same time. There were no seats, no numbers or sectors. There was a very wide range of people, in front of me there was a kid and near me a man who was surely above 60. The fans seemed genuine and just happy to be there, I enjoyed myself. I’d totally go again if I could. 

Is there any song by 3 that makes you sad?

Umano makes me feel both sad and angry, depending on my mood when I listen to it. Sometimes I feel sad because I relate to the sense of ‘existential guilt’ he conveys in this song and in general to the idea of, like, sinning by just being alive, somehow. Some other times, when I feel better, the fact that we must experience this kind of thoughts and emotions makes me mad. It’s not fair, it’s not how I should feel. 

What’s your favourite song by 7?

That has to be Before the dawn. It is connected to a situation which is still kind of painful for me and it carries both happy and sad memories. It brings me a certain sense of nostalgia when I listen to it, but it’s still beautiful.

What are your favourite lyrics by 5?

“Do you know what's worth fighting for/When it's not worth dying for?/Does it take your breath away/And you feel yourself suffocating?/Does the pain weigh out the pride?/And you look for a place to hide?/Did someone break your heart inside?/You're in ruins” (21 Guns)

What’s your favourite song by 9?

I think it’s Lonely Day. 

How did you get into 2?

I’ve completely fallen for them in high-school I think. I can’t remember why or when exactly, probably we listened to some of their songs during music lessons. I only know after a few months I had their complete discography (CDs were sold once every two weeks with some kind of newspaper at an affordable price and I bought them all). In no time I was reading McLennon fanfiction on EFP, because that’s what I do when I really like something I guess (’:

They are still my favourite group probably, their music never makes me tired. 

How did you get into 10?

Okay: this dude is a fucking astronaut, not a singer. Like, he’s been in space and he’s even walked out there, twice. So, why do I list him here? 

Some years ago I bought a book written by him, called “An astronaut’s guide to life on Earth”. I knew nothing about him, but by the end of the book he had made me laugh and think, and he even got me into astronomy. Anyway, in the book he speaks about his experience on the International Space Station and one of the curious stuff he did up there was playing and singing a modified version of David Bowie’s Space Oddity. He’s been the first astronaut to play in space (I’m not sure if someone else has done it again since then) and he even registered a nice music video while he was there.

I’m gonna tag a little randomly, just don’t do it if you don’t feel like it, there’s no problem. I hope you don’t mind me tagging you anyway, feel free to tell me if you do, I’ll delete the tag. So, @polishedanarchisttrash , @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod , @roses-symphony , @chiamatemefla , @bluebandit16 , @trashmouthgently  

(seriously, don’t do it if you don’t want 🌻)

[menusforone-blog]

or so I stand

Between me and the human mind is a river. I am often just at the banks, observing the sway and the tugs that relentlessly force ripples in the flood. My lips are chapped, and I draw the tip of my middle finger across its ridges, only to realize that it is numb, and my hands are numb.

The numbness has transcended even the furthest limits of my being. When I look down, the water is knee-deep in an untimely high tide, though my lungs are capacitated with the Atlantic. Maybe I am only a fool and I am easily convinced by the facade of things that surround me. Yet there is no brain nor no one to tell me otherwise, and the heavier I feel, the lighter I become until I am simply a pocket of space drifting opposite to the calmed wading of the peculiar sea foam trimming. And so what am I? I can hardly say, and my words are caught with a single inhale as out of me exumes a sort of fixated reality that merely catches my eye before it melds away with the blurring scenery.

My eyes do not open any longer. My arms cannot extend out far enough to catch what I have let go, and when I try, I am but a wave that claws onto the dirt and in my palms are the mounds of sand that recede with me. My screams are dismissed as the hollow winds, and I, yet, I- I cannot even say I exist. I have only become what has become of me, casting upon even the mere sky a sort of long-winded prayer to return to me what I was just before I am once more consumed for one more hour, for one more smidget of what is left that I must live so that I am everything that I was not made to be.

Against my back is a willow that hangs above me and meets the tilt of my chin as I gaze up at its finite myriad. The gentle stroke lingers into my skin, yet even then I can only feel the breath seize just as I am overcome with a sense of relief. Beyond my own self I cannot fathom the space in which the world prowls and of what percentage I am just a melancholy reminder of someone who has lost themselves to the forest and the river, to the single seed that never sprouts, to the constant ballets that we find ourselves so concentrated in that the harmless becomes the harmful, to the tree that bears us everything we have ever wanted without ever once questioning whether or not it has become a voluntary slave, and has adapted too well into this cold, unforgiving niche that even the world that once told us that we are all separate entities that make up a diverse entirety has embraced the arrogance of man and skewed the perspectives of all things to focus on those open palms squeezing against one another, looking up, looking for more than what is no longer a privilege, but rather a pleasure that turns the human into a savage, as those empty hands are returned with a bucket of tears, of “ I can no longer do this”, or of “ I am no longer capable”, or simply that I have completely lost myself in all knowing, and only now am I here to cower at your soles for you to return what you have given to me, but all you do is hold your palm out, as if I can answer to your pleas when I myself am all but your own mind’s conjuring up of lackless words.

Hell was not created for those who have sinned. It was created for those who have lost their legs to the numbness of the river, and for those who have watched themselves separate into one part fear, and another part emptiness. So I continue to stare through the hazy shade beyond my soles, at the water, where I do not see a reflection.

[teamindiawestbrooks]

I've come to the conclusion that haters will do/say anything to point out India's flaws to make themselves feel better. Like that last screenshot of her "dirty" feet, like bitch she's at the beach! People make comments like oh her stomach is too toned, her cheekbones are faked with makeup, bitch you wish you had her abs and her facial structure though. Ya'll kill me. Support her or don't it simple but there's no need to go out of your way to put her down if you don't like her. She doesn't care tbh

[teamindiawestbrooks]

The tags are coming along nicely, should have tags in most categories by tomorrow!

[iloveindialove]

My fav pic of India