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Home alone, Giuseppe Palmisano

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приходить к тебе,  чтоб снова  просто вслушиваться в голос  и сидеть на стуле, сгорбясь,  и не говорить не слова.  приходить,  стучаться в двери,  замирая, ждать ответа…  если ты узнаешь это,  то, наверное, не поверишь,  то, наверно, захохочешь,  скажешь:  “это ж глупо очень…"  скажешь:  "тоже мн�� -  влюблённый!” -  и посмотришь удивлённо,  и не усидишь на месте.  будет смех звенеть рекою…  ну и ладно.  ну и смейся.  я люблю тебя  такою. /Роберт Рождественский

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И не могу сказать, что не могу жить без тебя - поскольку я живу.

Иосиф Бродский (via imkirael)

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John Drysdale

https://ro.pinterest.com/malakerhman/john-drysdale/

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Okay non-European tumblr, I’m gonna explain to you why ‘white’ isn’t as simple here as it is in the rest of the world

- Shades of white in Europe range from ‘freshly fallen snow’ to ‘I am frequently mistaken as being from the Middle East’

- White European is a thing. When you fill out a form, under ethnicity, there are several options for white; white British, white European, white other. Because people make that distinction

- There are Europeans who don’t class their ethnicity as their skin colour, but as their nationality. I have family who don’t think of themselves as white, they just think of themselves as Italian and don’t really give much thought to their skin colour

- People here in Britain always question if darker skinned white Europeans are ‘actually white’. I get it a lot myself. My response is always ‘well I’m not anything else, so obviously I must be’

- Despite being white, a lot of Europeans from Italy, Greece, Spain etc, don’t feel white in the traditional sense. We’re not white like white British people. We’re not white like white Americans. We’re our own white. White British is one thing. White Italian is another thing. White Greek is another, etc

- Which is why we have this notion here in Europe of ‘nationality over race’. Being white isn’t as important as where you’re from

- So this really only becomes an issue if you’re an immigrant

- So being white in Europe doesn’t save you from racial discrimination, because sure, you’re technically white, but you’re not white white. Not the right white

- Here in England, Europeans with really blatantly foreign names, such as myself, find it more difficult to get job interviews, because they take one look at our name and don’t bother reading the rest of the CV. A guy I know was actually told by his boss to reduce the pile of CVs he had by ‘chucking away any with a name you can’t fucking pronounce’

- And then even when you do get an interview, half the time you walk into the joint several shades darker than everyone else and feel like you’ve walked into the ‘Swedish supermodel’ clubhouse and you just know you’re not getting hired

This is all basic stuff and it’s very much taken for granted here. Race and ethnicity are not as clear cut, so it can be very confusing for non-Europeans to wrap their heads around. Which is fine. But I implore you to stay in your lane, because when you say things like ‘no white person anywhere in the world ever knows what it’s like to face racial discrimination’, it’s really fucking offensive to all of the European immigrants who are denied jobs, harassed by the police and beaten by racists, because foreign is foreign to these people, and they don’t give a shit if you’re technically white. So when you mean white American, say white American. 

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Thom Gunn, "The Hug"

It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined  Half of the night with our old friend  Who’d showed us in the end  To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.  Already I lay snug,  And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.

 I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,  Suddenly, from behind,  In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:  Your instep to my heel,  My shoulder-blades against your chest.  It was not sex, but I could feel  The whole strength of your body set,  Or braced, to mine,  And locking me to you  As if we were still twenty-two  When our grand passion had not yet  Become familial.  My quick sleep had deleted all  Of intervening time and place.  I only knew  The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.

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Doriana and Mirko. From the series, Primo Amore.

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To live in your head. And to love you unjustifiedly, desperately. To live in your head. And to kill you unconsciously, unintentionally. Unconsciously, unintentionally. And we were listening to the quiet ocean. And we saw the cities. And we believed in eternal love. And we thought it's: ''Forever''. To live in your head. And to love you unjustifiedly, desperately. To live in your head. And to kill you unconsciously, unintentionally. Unconsciously, unintentionally. We entangled in the complete darkness. We turned on our lights. We collapsed like the sky in the room. We remained completely alone. To live in your head. And to love you unjustifiedly, desperately. To live in your head. And to kill you unconsciously, unintentionally. Unconsciously, unintentionally. To live in your head.

Zemfira, Жить с твоей голове. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lfLBb-Q4hlc

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“Clouds in the Cosmos”

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Pucker Up!

Photographer: Edvan Derelsken

More Photos Here

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Kibbutz Friday Night Shabbat, 1970-1989 – Yohanan Simon (1905–1976) oil painting  |  source:

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“I’ve Got A Friend On Me”

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Pacho Clokey