zeldathemes
Hurts Like Heaven
an Italian girl who's totally in love with English series
archiviostore:

Every person is a beautiful surprise, so today I’m glad to introduce you Mario - @bluemoanin - an avid observer by nature, commonly known as engineering student. He told me as usual #whatitalyis for him: “Italy is the Italians. Italy is a nation of brain drain, of brilliant ideas that have no place, of dreams projected into the future that are trapped in a present too tied to the past.” He said to me where he took this photo and what he felt: “Rome, the city of the Great Beauty, is the city where I’m living and where I took this photo. The Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana, also known as Colosseo Quadrato, is an icon of fascist architecture. The building has pitted entire generations of architects, a glitch in the system, which has in itself all the characteristics to be a ‘real failure’: squat form, facades all the same, yet unique, enigmatic.” Posted with happiness by @lafici_ ↬ @whatitalyis http://j.mp/1klL2ft

archiviostore:

Every person is a beautiful surprise, so today I’m glad to introduce you Mario - @bluemoanin - an avid observer by nature, commonly known as engineering student. He told me as usual #whatitalyis for him: “Italy is the Italians. Italy is a nation of brain drain, of brilliant ideas that have no place, of dreams projected into the future that are trapped in a present too tied to the past.” He said to me where he took this photo and what he felt: “Rome, the city of the Great Beauty, is the city where I’m living and where I took this photo. The Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana, also known as Colosseo Quadrato, is an icon of fascist architecture. The building has pitted entire generations of architects, a glitch in the system, which has in itself all the characteristics to be a ‘real failure’: squat form, facades all the same, yet unique, enigmatic.” Posted with happiness by @lafici_ ↬ @whatitalyis http://j.mp/1klL2ft

dammitmat:

revolvermonkcelot:

friedcheesemogu:

I feel like I should reblog this every day.

me too

I’m hilariously bad at this and at holding a normal conversation so


This is so fucking true

dammitmat:

revolvermonkcelot:

friedcheesemogu:

I feel like I should reblog this every day.

me too

I’m hilariously bad at this and at holding a normal conversation so

This is so fucking true

Requested by hot-blooded-bb

It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.

Not all men.

I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.

Not all men.

Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.

Not all men.

Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.

Not all men.

Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:

“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”

Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…

I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…

Not all men.

Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:

-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger

I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?

Not all men.

It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.

I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.

Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.

Not.
All.
Men.

(via nonjazzscatcat)

this is amazing

(via silverindies)

ericafirpo:

StenLex in Garbatella, 2013. This is more painterly and abstract then their usual street portraits.  Piece was crowd funded and is considered public art, rather than street art. Interesting.

ericafirpo:

StenLex in Garbatella, 2013. This is more painterly and abstract then their usual street portraits.  Piece was crowd funded and is considered public art, rather than street art. Interesting.

tryfon-topalidis:

This Monday, August 11, 2014 photo shows Associated Press video journalist Simone Camilli in Beit Lahiya, Gaza Strip. Camilli, 35, together with Palestinian translator Ali Shehda Abu Afash and three members of the Gaza police was died August 13, 2014 in the northern Gaza town of Beit Lahiya, when ordnance left over from fighting between Israel and Islamic militants blew up as Gazan police engineers were working to neutralize it. Police said four other people were seriously injured, including AP photographer Hatem Moussa. (Photograph credit: Khalil Hamra/AP photo) 
Camilli, an Italian national, had worked for The Associated Press since being hired as a freelancer in Rome in 2005. He relocated to Jerusalem in 2006, and often covered assignments in Gaza. Camilli, who is the first foreign journalist killed in the Gaza conflict, he leaves behind his longtime partner and a 3-year-old daughter. Abu Afash, a 36-year-old Gaza resident, leaves behind a wife and two daughters, ages 5 and 6. He often worked with the international media as a translator and news assistant.

tryfon-topalidis:

This Monday, August 11, 2014 photo shows Associated Press video journalist Simone Camilli in Beit Lahiya, Gaza Strip. Camilli, 35, together with Palestinian translator Ali Shehda Abu Afash and three members of the Gaza police was died August 13, 2014 in the northern Gaza town of Beit Lahiya, when ordnance left over from fighting between Israel and Islamic militants blew up as Gazan police engineers were working to neutralize it. Police said four other people were seriously injured, including AP photographer Hatem Moussa. (Photograph credit: Khalil Hamra/AP photo

Camilli, an Italian national, had worked for The Associated Press since being hired as a freelancer in Rome in 2005. He relocated to Jerusalem in 2006, and often covered assignments in Gaza. Camilli, who is the first foreign journalist killed in the Gaza conflict, he leaves behind his longtime partner and a 3-year-old daughter. Abu Afash, a 36-year-old Gaza resident, leaves behind a wife and two daughters, ages 5 and 6. He often worked with the international media as a translator and news assistant.

default album art
Song: Me so'mbriacato
Artist: Alessandro Mannarino
Album: Bar della rabbia
Played: 39 times.

wafertubo:

Quando sono con te non so più chi sono perché crolla il pavimento e mi sciolgo di dentro - quando penso a te mi sento denso perché io ti tengo qua dentro di me; io ti tengo qua dentro con me. 
Me so’ mbriacato de ‘na donna quant’è bono l’odore della gonna, quant’è bono l’odore del mare ce vado de notte a cercà le parole. Quant’è bono l’odore del vento, dentro lo sento, dentro lo sento. Quant’è bono l’odore dell’ombra - quando c’è il sole che sotto rimbomba. 

thatsthat24:

tastefullyoffensive:

Crazy Ideas That Just Need to Happen Already [via]

Previously: Mind-Boggling Shower Thoughts

Seriously though, why haven’t these been made….