void.

Autumn, c.1920-1 by Rudolf Jettmar (Austrian, 1869–1939)

More on RHB_RBS

Tokyo Tower   https://goo.gl/pXFdXP

Art: dangiuz

Alphaville by Zbigniew M. Bielak.

This artist on Instagram

Morena, Slavic goddess of winter, death, and rebirth by Margo Kai

Le Silence, Lucien Lévy-Dhurmer, pastel, 290 x 540 mm, 1895, Paris, Musée d’Orsay

Runesmith-nu Patrick Arrasmith

The Signs by Kafka Aries:“ I will not let myself become tired. I’ll jump into my story even though it should cut my face to pieces.” Taurus: “Once I enjoy a person, that joy knows no bounds.” Gemini: “One has either to take people as they are, or leave them as they are. One cannot change them, one can merely disturb their balance. A human being, after all, is not made up of single pieces, from which a single piece can be taken out and replaced by something else.” Cancer: “I usually solve problems by letting them devour me.” Leo: “ I am strangely tired, not from having talked so much but at the mere thought of what I still have to say.” Virgo: “Time is short, my strength is limited, the office is a horror, the apartment is noisy, and if a pleasant, straightforward life is not possible then one must try to wriggle through by subtle maneuvers.” Libra: “I am a very unhappy human being and you, dearest, simply had to be summoned to create an equilibrium for all this misery.” Scorpio: “I can never tear myself open wide enough to people to reveal everything and so frighten them away.” Sagittarius: “I cannot rid myself of the feeling that I’m not in the right place.” Capricorn: “Should I be grateful or should I curse the fact that despite all misfortune I can still feel love, an unearthly love but still for earthly objects.” Aquarius: “Being alone has a power over me that never fails. My interior dissolves and is ready to release what lies deeper.”Pisces:“ I do not see the world at all; I invent it.” Franz Kafka by Oscar Larroca

Matthew Sergison

Oimachi - Tokyo, Japan

Samadhi Brahman Miles Toland.

“Our Wish for the End, Me” by Clayshaper

Ubik by Talon Abraxas

Evelyn De Morgan (1855-1919), The Angel of Death, 1880