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n. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life.

I’m looking for a tumblr girlfriend to make famous! Following everyone back :) <3

I was sitting in blue Danube, reading their journals that are there for anyone to write in. I felt envious that everyone’s stories seemed so honest and witty. More importantly it was so relatable, everyone seemed to put everything I’ve ever felt into such eloquent words that actually made sense to me for once. It’s frustrating for me, because I’ve never been able to write anything honest without my inner critic shooting it down. I feel as though my inner critic has grown increasingly more critical as I grow in age. It’s upsetting and hard to conquer. I feel like I know more talking to others than I do myself. In reality I know nothing and every day I gather more and more questions oppose to answers, creating this unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

A disposable I took of my favorite Jessica

Pics brumeux
21 x 29,7cm, ink on paper, Kevin Lucbert, 2014.

Jing Jin (San Francisco, CA, USA) - Dear Little Squares, 2014     Drawings: Watercolors, Ink, Pencils

32 hours later in a tiny grainer hole and suddenly I was in Portland. 

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Jennifer Davis


“Detached”, 2014

my god, perfection…