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sad boi hours this, sad boi hours that, how about we reveal our deepest darkest secrets by exchanging franz kafka's diaries
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Today on things that I’m weirdly and ridiculously emotional about, does anybody else get the spontaneous urge to cry when they see a really gorgeous piece of Architecture? Especially if they happen to be Theatres, Museums, Book Stores, Libraries or Art Galleries? That might sound weird, but seriously, just look at these things:
The Winter Garden Theatre, Toronto Canada
The Margravial Opera House, Bayrueth Germany
El Ateneo Grand Splendid, the Theatre-turned-Library in Barrio Norte, Buenos Aires
The Hungarian Parliament Building in Budapest, Hungary
The Blue Mosque in Istanbul, Turkey
The Florence Cathedral in Florence, Italy
The Abbey Library of Saint Gall in Saint Gallen, Switzerland
The Baroque Library of Metten Abbey in Metten Germany
Trinity College Library in Dublin, Ireland
The Vatican Museums in Vatican City
Konpira Grande Theatre in Kotohira, Japan
Kabuki-za Theatre in Tokyo, Japan
I can’t be the only one who finds these places gorgeous, right? Add your own favorite Architectural Wonders in the comments!
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america needs ranked-choice voting so we can end this same fucking discourse happening every four years like clockwork
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The different styles of Palestinian traditional dress, by location.
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I've never liked
having my hands dirty
but one afternoon
he ate oranges,
cradled slices of it in his palm
held it carefully
his fingers sweet and sticky
he held my hand
two hands glued together
stained my fingers with sugary love
and i think
since then
i didnt really mind sticky fingers
or peeling oranges for him every tuesday afternoon
if it meant seeing him smile
like that
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the goldfinch by donna tartt is my home. i’ve built a house inside those pages. i live there.
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PLEASE IF YOURE A HOMESTUCK BLOG AND WE FOLLOWED YOU REDIRECT YOURSELF TO @rancid-jester AND BECOME MY MUTUAL
-Jer
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not changing ur url to maintain your brand recognition
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we're young, boy
show me your scars
and let me kiss them
let's fuck on your mother's grave
let's drink wine on rooftops
and sing the song of the dead
show me where you fell off of a skateboard
and watch me curse the ground
I'll show you my favorite spot
and we'll kiss under the moonlight
bloody teeth and filthy palms
and I'll say i love you
but I'd mean I'd kill for you
and you'd smile
cause you'd know
and the next day we'll set something on fire
and we'll run away
let me show you how loud and alive i can be
and we'll dance
and dance
and dance
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i hate it when i cant even write a poem about something because its too obvious. like in the airbnb i was at i guess it used to be a kids room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. like that's a poem already what's the point
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