1 day ago with 92,585 notes

wonderlandworries:

How can you not love him? 

(Source: mcaubergine)

3 days ago with 56,880 notes

(Source: peachybeam)

4 days ago with 5,626 notes
You can’t say “I don’t do politics”, because silence is a political statement. Tariq Ramadan

(Source: uniteforpalestine)

1 week ago with 46 notes
beetleinabox:


William Wegman, Blue Period with Banjo, 1980.
Franz Kafka writes:

I had run in darkness for a long time, up and down, blind and deaf to everything, led on by nothing but a vague desire, and now I suddenly came to a stop with the feeling that I was in the right place, and looking up saw that it was bright day, only a little hazy, and everywhere a blending and confusion of the most intoxicating smells; I greeted the morning with an uncertain barking, when — as if I had conjured them up — out of some place of darkness, to the accompaniment of terrible sounds such as I had never heard before, seven dogs stepped into the light. Had I not distinctly seen that they were dogs and that they, themselves brought the sound with them — though I could not recognize how they produced it — I would have run away at once; but as it was I stayed. At that time I still knew hardly anything of the creative gift for music with which the canine race alone is endowed, it had naturally enough escaped my but slowly developing powers of observation; for though music had surrounded me as a perfectly natural and indispensable element of existence ever since I was a suckling, an element which nothing impelled me to distinguish from the rest of existence, my elders had drawn my attention to it only by such hints as were suitable for a childish understanding; all the more astonishing, then, indeed devastating, were these seven great musical artists to me.

beetleinabox:

William Wegman, Blue Period with Banjo, 1980.

Franz Kafka writes:

I had run in darkness for a long time, up and down, blind and deaf to everything, led on by nothing but a vague desire, and now I suddenly came to a stop with the feeling that I was in the right place, and looking up saw that it was bright day, only a little hazy, and everywhere a blending and confusion of the most intoxicating smells; I greeted the morning with an uncertain barking, when — as if I had conjured them up — out of some place of darkness, to the accompaniment of terrible sounds such as I had never heard before, seven dogs stepped into the light. Had I not distinctly seen that they were dogs and that they, themselves brought the sound with them — though I could not recognize how they produced it — I would have run away at once; but as it was I stayed. At that time I still knew hardly anything of the creative gift for music with which the canine race alone is endowed, it had naturally enough escaped my but slowly developing powers of observation; for though music had surrounded me as a perfectly natural and indispensable element of existence ever since I was a suckling, an element which nothing impelled me to distinguish from the rest of existence, my elders had drawn my attention to it only by such hints as were suitable for a childish understanding; all the more astonishing, then, indeed devastating, were these seven great musical artists to me.

1 week ago with 1,140 notes
purplepokemon:

Source

purplepokemon:

Source

1 week ago with 1,034 notes
solos1s:

496

solos1s:

496

1 week ago with 223,313 notes

the-spinning-teacup:

I want to have Edna’s confidence

(Source: apriki)

1 week ago with 380 notes

holly-gofightly:

"You still see things ever?"
"It never stops. Not really."

1 week ago with 43,734 notes

(Source: )

1 week ago with 1,492 notes

(Source: im-a-fucking-alien)

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