fuckyeahbeautifulmaps:

First development plan of Berlin by Hobrecht | 1862

fuckyeahbeautifulmaps:

First development plan of Berlin by Hobrecht | 1862

(via time-for-maps)

"We could have loved each other, I was sure of that. But at what point in time, at what place in the world? Nowhere on earth, in any case, and at no point in the future."

Simone de Beauvoir, from The Mandarins (via violentwavesofemotion)

"You closed your eyes
in the wooden stairwell, leaning your head against the wall,
knowing a bigger world loomed. It’s still out there,
and it’s tucked in this keyboard too,
now we are an organ, now we are an oboe,
now we are young or ancient,
now we are smelling wallpaper in the house
our grandfather sold with every cabinet,
table and doily included,
but we are still adrift, floating,
thrum-full of longing layers of sound."

Naomi Shihab Nye, ”Song Book.”
(via literarymiscellany)

(via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

therealbohemian:

Inside the Head of Fritz Rochester

Fritz is a 70 year old undiscovered machinist and painter who combines a raw artistic vision with a quest to get back on his feet after the death of his girlfriend Darlene.

Check out the amazing film series made by Ben Gonyo.

Beautiful

(Source: crossconnectmag)

"

When they ask you how you are
don’t say fearful. Narrow your eyes and kiss your teeth but don’t say afraid.

Don’t say more scared and at sea in these latest days then ever before, or floundering. Don’t say lost without cause or that you’re not always sure you can make it.
Straighten that back
you are sex. Look like sex.

Wipe the blood from yourself.
Don’t tell them what went on when the sun was busy in another street.

Do that Thing The People do.
The people who are fine, fine, fine
until you get home and find them gone, gone gone.

Keep suffering because it’s your God Given right.
Brawl with your being. Fight the bad fight.

Fight

If they ask you how you are
don’t say stolen. Don’t say forgotten, passed over,
ignored. Don’t you dare say Orphan.
Don’t say beaten by the system
oppressed and disturbed
and don’t you dare say disappointed
don’t you dare say damaged.

Smile.
Smile with all of your teeth, even the rotting ones.
Even the rotting ones.

"

'when they ask'

Yrsa Daley-Ward, ‘bone.’

now available at amazon.com

(via yrsadaleyward)

yrsadaleyward:

It is not a five star stay. It is not compliments and it is never ever flattery. It is fact. It is tough, can be hard
and it is definitely not diamonds.
It is solid. It is not sweet but always nutritious, always herb. always salt. Sometimes grit.
It is now and till the end. It is never a slither, never a little
it is a full serving
it is much…too much and real
never pretty or clean. It stinks, you can smell it coming, it is weight…it is weight and it is too heavy to feel good sometimes
…it is discomfort, it is not what the films say. Only songs
get it right
it is irregular
it is difficult
and always, always
surprising.

Yrsa Daley-Ward

'what love isn't'

Yrsa Daley-Ward, ‘bone.’

now available at amazon.com

(via nayyirahwaheed)

"

sthandwa sami
(my beloved, isiZulu)

In the early hours of this morning it was far too hot for anyone to sleep.
You told me I was strange and kissed me
sunk your teeth into my soft bottom lip twice. So hard I thought you drew blood.
I keep getting the feeling that if you look at me for long enough
you may see that I have a thousand fears
just like your mother who never really wanted you to leave
meanwhile mina I am catching up on the sleep that we missed
and waiting patiently to feel normal again.
My thoughts about you are frightening but precise.
I can see the house on the hill where we grow our own vegetables out back
and drink warm wine out of jam jars
and sing songs in the kitchen until the sun comes up
wena
you make me feel like myself
again. Myself before I had any solid reasons to be anything else.
Last night you gave me space to dream bigger than the single bed.
You laughed in your sleep and I cried in mine
and this afternoon we might be tired because the sun is fierce today
and so much happened between midnight and now
but Bhabha you are terror and brilliance
so
I am the kind of woman who is already teaching my body to miss yours
without craving.
I am the type of woman who is already teaching my heart to miss yours
without failing
and I am quite sure that you will find this unnecessary
but I am already searching for a place to run to and hide when you say,

Uthando lwami. I’m ready. Are you?

You know that I would gladly drive with you to the other side of the world with only the clothes I am wearing
and the loose change
and empty peanut shells in my purse
kodwa
every time you leave the room I worry
and think that perhaps I have imagined you
and maybe you have imagined me.

"

sthandwa sami

(my beloved, isiZulu)

Yrsa Daley-Ward, ‘bone.’

now available at amazon.com

(via yrsadaleyward)

(via nayyirahwaheed)

allteensrelate:

I find it interesting how society doesn’t care when the media sexualizes women, when men sexualizes women, when school and the government sexualizes women. But the second a woman is in control and sexualizes herself willingly it’s wrong and disgusting.

Bingo!

(via goingurban)

surrealism:

The Semi Transparent City by Kansuke Yamamoto, 1950. Vintage silver gelatin print, 8 ¼ × 8 ½ inches.

surrealism:

The Semi Transparent City by Kansuke Yamamoto, 1950. Vintage silver gelatin print, 8 ¼ × 8 ½ inches.

surrealism:

Summer Dreams by Eugenia Loli, 2012. Collage.

surrealism:

Summer Dreams by Eugenia Loli, 2012. Collage.