endless avenues of rain


Hanna / 20 / Norway
And when a train goes by, it's such a sad sound...


I am profoundly enchanted by the flowing complexity in you.
—John Keats, from a letter to Fanny Brawne dated 5 November, 1820  (via oncealoyallover)
cinoh:

Jaime Johnson, “Rest,” 2014. 30 x 40 inches. Tea-stained cyanotype

cinoh:

Jaime Johnson, “Rest,” 2014. 30 x 40 inches. Tea-stained cyanotype

I understand, all right. The hopeless dream of being - not seeming, but being. At every waking moment, alert. The gulf between what you are with others and what you are alone. The vertigo and the constant hunger to be exposed, to be seen through, perhaps even wiped out. Every inflection and every gesture a lie, every smile a grimace. Suicide? No, too vulgar. But you can refuse to move, refuse to talk, so that you don’t have to lie. You can shut yourself in. Then you needn’t play any parts or make wrong gestures. Or so you thought. But reality is diabolical. Your hiding place isn’t watertight. Life trickles in from the outside, and you’re forced to react. No one asks if it is true or false, if you’re genuine or just a sham. Such things matter only in the theatre, and hardly there either. I understand why you don’t speak, why you don’t move, why you’ve created a part for yourself out of apathy. I understand. I admire. You should go on with this part until it is played out, until it loses interest for you. Then you can leave it, just as you’ve left your other parts one by one.
—Ingmar Bergman (via de-licacy)

(Source: ig-narus)

(Source: researchshizzle)

(Source: donawho)

(Source: litverve)

thatwetshirt:

Before Sunrise (1995)


Ah! dearest love, sweet home of all my fears,and hopes, and joys, and panting miseries,Tonight if I may guess, thy beauty wears a smile of such delight,As brilliant and as brightAs when with ravished, aching, nassal eyes,Lost in a soft amazeI gaze, I gaze
— John Keats 

Ah! dearest love, sweet home of all my fears,
and hopes, and joys, and panting miseries,
Tonight if I may guess, thy beauty wears a smile of such delight,
As brilliant and as bright
As when with ravished, aching, nassal eyes,
Lost in a soft amaze
I gaze, I gaze

— John Keats 

(Source: crackedbones)

kafkasapartment:

Midnight Snow Scene,1912. Gustave Adolph Hoffman. Etching

kafkasapartment:

Midnight Snow Scene,1912. Gustave Adolph Hoffman. Etching

(Source: djabal)

gentle-insomnia:

Currently creating a series of old photographs. Here’s one.
Ink and graphite on watercolour paper. 

gentle-insomnia:

Currently creating a series of old photographs. Here’s one.

Ink and graphite on watercolour paper. 

thehystericalsociety:

Double exposure, a vision in the trees - c1910s - (Via)

thehystericalsociety:

Double exposure, a vision in the trees - c1910s - (Via)

Our bodies flicker

Toward extinction…
—Sylvia Plath, from “Sculptor” (via weissewiese)

(Source: lifeinpoetry)