merci leon

uçurum kalbinin hemen yanında olunca kaçacak pek yerin kalmıyor.

.

Agnes Strickland (detail) – John Hayes, 1846

'cause i don't care if i loose my mind, i'm already cursed

even if you don't want me to // ma.c.a

Scalinata nel parco

twitter: @/StudiesAncient

Time will tell, I suppose, or at least, these pages will.

Decorated pages from the Beinecke Rare Book Library at Yale University

They all came to Heliogabalus’ parties, the ancient equivalent of Conan Grey, a wicked party-animal and an angel with horns with a fine taste for flowers. Once a year he howled on top of his empire so everyone could hear: « Come and rejoice, my friends! It is the only week of the year where the beautifuls aren’t scorning the uglies, for all of you are covered with the finest rose petals! » Of course they all lacked the ability to take maniac selfies but Lawrence Alma-Tadema and Cole Thomas immortalized one of these feasts; they were two painters in love but who never dared in their lifetime tell each other for they were too afraid to be laughed at. Everyone would come a long way just to bathe in roses; some drowned in petals, drunk, sank there alone before they could make a new friend. Egor clearly had enough and asked for it all to stop, a protective hand above his hangover head on the 2nd day, feeling like someone took his soul away. Nerds, prom queens, geeks, ferret lovers, people who called themselves “normal”, all showed up and reunited in peace, days and nights, for this special week once a year. A real mood for many present-day citizens.