b-a-n-a-l:

One mother who was without money hiding in shame after having their children placed for sale. Chicago, 1948.
Follow for more!

b-a-n-a-l:

One mother who was without money hiding in shame after having their children placed for sale. Chicago, 1948.

Follow for more!

trans-par-en-t:

made transparent by trans-par-en-t

trans-par-en-t:

made transparent by trans-par-en-t

(via trans-par-en-t)

sidnugget:

I push everyone away but in a way I’m doing them a favor

(via lostmytrinhofthought)

(Source: kuromink, via hikui)

cyanparade:

we are all vessels of time.

cyanparade:

we are all vessels of time.

(via lyrexz)

cryinglittlepeople:

forcing an art slump into submission with Hollow!Rose

cryinglittlepeople:

forcing an art slump into submission with Hollow!Rose

(via lyrexz)

(Source: sleepyheadillustration, via wreck-your-0rgans)

(Source: hara-kiri, via wreck-your-0rgans)

What did Time smell like? Like dust and clocks and people. And if you wondered what Time sounded like, it sounded like water running in a dark cave and voices crying and dirt dropping down upon hollow box lids, and rain. And, going further, what did Time look like? Time looked like snow dropping silently into a black room or it looked like a silent film in an ancient theater, one hundred billion faces falling like those New Year balloons, down and down into nothing.
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles (via feellng)

(Source: annadzihiko, via wheres-the-phone)

©