the grossiest of creatures, the mighty frog princess, bites you by your left-legged toe while staring beserkly at you with her glossy-green eyes in the same time while her "rabbit-rabbit" shouts ignites your inflammable kimono suit...
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showstudio:

Ninja’s chest, Die Antwoord
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Mostar, Bosnia, September 1992. A Bosnian soldier plays the piano in the destroyed music school.Photo by Teun Voeten.

theyshootmusic:

Vive L’Anarchie - with Patti Smith and Lizzy Mercier Descloux in Paris


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Girl, Interrupted (1999)
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"   Don’t confuse my personality with my attitude. My personality is who I am. My attitude depends on who you are.   "
-Frank Ocean (via stay-ocean-minded)
Epiphenomenon , Karen Skolfield
I spend a long time considering pillowcases.
Which pillowcase does my head want for rest? 
A lace edge so that the cheek does not grow bored? 
 
All night the face turns on its pillow, 
bridging the day gone with its divination of tomorrow. 
The brain sleeps but the body twitches and kicks, 
 
lashes out, steals the sheets, twists the blankets 
into thick, furred knots. Thomas Huxley believed 
the mind’s shrill whistle contributed nothing 
 
to the locomotive body; Plato, that the mind 
knows great truths while the body lives in shadows.
What I know is how sleep releases the body 
 
from me telling it where to put its feet, its fingers, 
how the tongue should roll its Rs, when the teeth 
may bite or gnash. I give it my consideration 
 
of pillowcases, of lotions and textures it may like, 
or farther afield—an actual field—clover against 
the skin. The sound of insects rising as the sun sets, 
 
the head leaned back into a cradle of hands, 
how the head adores the hands though they 
are separated by so much and the jealousy of arms. 
 
Body, I will lay you down beside 
another body you have grown to love. 
I will bid you still in the moments before sleep 
 
and then I will hand you the keys to the house 
and let you spend the night plying all the locks. 
In the morning I will wash you with care 
 
and lead you around and treat you kindly 
and if there is sobbing it is not my sobbing 
and we will both pretend not to hear it.
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centuriespast:

An ancient container for cowrie shells with yaks sculpted on the lid, in “Cast for Eternity” at the Clark Institute. CreditShanghai Museum
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i want to make this
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