Mon, 13th of October    1,285 notes    Source

aeyelaeyen:

i have made a terrible mistake

click here to download this terrible mistake

angelina jolie photographed by mario testino // ST John

meccanico:

How To Train Your Dragon 2 - Concept Art 

stereocolours:

Stars by Adam Marshall
Society6 \ Facebook \ Twitter \ Flickr

I was planning on uploading some of the shots I got from the woods today, but I’m too tired to make the most of them, so figured i’d share some stars! 

Y, como el frío, ella me dejó temblando.

  

Azares del destino (via denisesoyletras)

Y, como recuerdo, ella torturó mi mente.

(via alma-de-colibri)

Y, como un sueño, ella desapareció cuando desperté.

(via denisesoyletras)

Y, como demonio, ella me hizo pecar.

(via alma-de-colibri)

Y, como máquina del tiempo, ella me devolvía al pasado.

(via denisesoyletras)

Y, como mar, ella era infinita.

(via alma-de-colibri)

Y, como un enigma, ella no tenía respuesta.

(via denisesoyletras)

  
Wed, 01st of October    12,097 notes    Source

bankuei:

apocalypsecanceled:

you know actually it was super important to me that these guys and the vast majority of front-of-train people, and all the people in the highest positions of power were all white. snowpiercer is the least subtle allegory to ever allegory— bunch of white guys pulling the strings, fucking shit up, proselytizing at each other and choosing another white dude to succeed them?

and the one white dude who changes the paradigm choosing to ally himself with and protect poc children at great personal cost (not just that scene at the end where he sacrificed himself to protect yona and timmy, but also in the axegang scene when he physically stepped in front of yona). the fact that he was tempted was important, the fact that in the end he chose to sacrifice comfort and a good life and align himself with the marginalized and oppressed was so important.

image

another way to look at it: namgoong was always resisting, he was always ready to tear down the system. curtis saw what the system had to offer and he was seconds away from taking it— but he was the only one offered it and probably the only one who WOULD be offered it. compare and contrast to how people who weren’t considered white in the US chose to be complicit (e.g. the irish) and managed to gain all the advantages of a white cultural identity but only because they looked a certain way.

the difference is that seconds away from being indoctrinated, curtis glimpsed the cost of buying into that system (what it costs to people he cares deeply about) and he decided FUCK ALL THAT SHIT LET’S BLOW THIS FUCKER and he needed namgoong’s initiative and yona’s help to do it (alternatively, namgoong needed curtis’s help to do it because curtis was the only one with the opportunity to get that close to wilford presumably cause wilford and gilliam were racist af)

The thing that gets me, the hardest, is the fact he basically DID accept it at the end, until Yona shows him the truth about the Engine…. the Engine cannot be reformed, it cannot be “fixed”, even if you tried to restructure the society, the very Engine itself has to run on abusive, horrid exploitation and violence.   

apunkinlovewithajerk:

 Resort 2015  | Marchesa
Tue, 23rd of September    513 notes    Source

samanthadoodles:

OUAT 80/90’s Series: Part Two

Part One

pitched-music:

Jesus Christ - Layered (requested)

Use headphones!

Thu, 11th of September    73,489 notes    Source

escapefrommetalgear:

key-feathers:

Practical wings created as a starting point for the CGI ones on Maleficent! 

I want to try and create a pair of wings of this size (personal project ;) ) These photos are a great inspiration! 

Source: http://disney.wikia.com/

hnnnng

Fri, 05th of September    17,527 notes    Source
Her eyes were glittering like the eyes of a child when you give a nice surprise, and she laughed with a sudden throaty, tingling way. It is the way a woman laughs for happiness. They never laugh that way just when they are being polite or at a joke. A woman only laughs that way a few times in her life. A woman only laughs that way when something has touched her way down in the very quick of her being and the happiness just wells out as natural as breath and the first jonquils and mountain brooks. When a woman laughs that way it always does something to you. It does not matter what kind of a face she has got either. You hear that laugh and feel that you have grasped a clean and beautiful truth. You feel that way because that laugh is a revelation. It is a great impersonal sincerity. It is a spray of dewy blossom from the great central stalk of All Being, and the woman’s name and address hasn’t got a damn thing to do with it. Therefore, the laugh cannot be faked. If a woman could learn to fake it she would make Nell Gwyn and Pompadour look like a couple of Campfire Girls wearing bifocals and ground-gripper shoes with bands on their teeth. She could get all society by the ears. For all any man really wants is to hear a woman laugh like that.

I am starting to hate existing less.
A thought that at one point seemed unfathomable.
“I will always wish for the blood to stop coursing through my veins.”
I remember how that thought sat in my brain; how I let it eat at me.
I screamed, I yelled, I kicked.
“I will always pray to be six feet under the ground.”
I blew out the candles for my eighteenth birthday.
Why does life have to be so long?

I etched lines into my skin.
I carved mountains and rivers and valleys and dunes.
I made art where there was none.
I painted pictures of what I wanted to see, what I thought should be there.
I sculpted a person as hard as rock.
I used tools as sharp as steel.
I only knew how to destroy.
I forgot how to build.
Plastered on smiles,
Words like swords,
I feigned rays of sunshine
Whilst throwing myself in a thousand different directions.
Anything to make you want me.
Anything to make me care.

I am staring to hate existing less.
Today I am an existentialist.
Tomorrow a Buddhist.
I am both sinner and saint.
I do not know how.
Uncertainty is nothing new.
“I am whimsical,” I say to you.
As you try to strip me of my wings.
But I want nothing tying me down.
You don’t know how it is to live without gravity.
You do not understand.
You could not understand.
Self destruction is
the only way I stay alive.

There are magic stones
that make me not fear.
I am in a prison of my own security.
I am well versed in the act of nonexistence.
This I can do well.
I may not know how to live,
but I know how to die.
I need it, I crave it.
I have the world at my fingertips and I toss it to the ground.
“Not this life,” I say.
As if I can pick and choose when consciousness is worth it.

This skill is not only learned,
It is taught.
I am a byproduct of passive aggressive.
A reminder of your mistakes.
Too much, too much, too much.
“Yes, I accept your pleas,”
I say to the world.
I will make myself small.
I will shrink into nothing.

I wait for the day for the sun to rise.
I long for the day to slay my dragons with a shining blade of steel.
It does not come.
This time I am quiet.
This time I stop asking
and I wait for my soul to speak.
I am not patient,
But I don’t have the will to fight.
Tenacity only got me so far.
And it is in the silence
Where I found the strength to let it in.

As smooth as a wind,
subtle, somber.
I let it come inside of me.
It whispers.
And this time I will allow
it to be true.
It is in the silence
that I find my salvation.
I am starved and bruised and hollow
But I know I am not done.
This whisper is my battle cry.
I will wait for my voice to catch up.
I will sing it from mountain tops.
I will soon say it-
Those magic words:
“I am stating to hate existing less.”
And I will mean it.


  A.M. (via adrianaintheraw)  
Mon, 01st of September    335 notes    Source

mandalorlans:

Details - Stephane Rolland Fall/Winter 2014-15 Haute Couture

llmns