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sound-of-selah:

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sound-of-selah:

This is a photo from the time I ran away to Spain with a man I had met the week before, to live on an abandoned olive farm on top of a mountain. No neighbours, no electricity, no running water, not reaallly a house. But it was perfect.

Our view from the outside bed we all had a siesta on at midday. Then we lay here and drank rum for the rest of the day. Federico drank too much and ended up passing out and staying there until the evening.

Wow can this be my life??

white people amaze me with the shit they do

Not quite sure where my ethnicity comes into this but thanks all the same.

(Source: sound-of-selah)

Tread lightly, she is near
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow.

All her bright golden hair
Tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair
Fallen to dust.

Lily-like, white as snow,
She hardly knew
She was a woman, so
Sweetly she grew.

Coffin-board, heavy stone,
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone
She is at rest.

Peace, Peace, she cannot hear
Lyre or sonnet,
All my life’s buried here,
Heap earth upon it.

Oscar Wilde, “Requiescat” (via observando)
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