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And this little guy is waiting for his CUTIE ARMIE

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há uma rachadura em tudo, é assim que entra a luz.

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Noelle Stevenson really said icons for the whole community, didn’t she?

Bisexuals, you get an icon!

Asexuals, you get an icon!

Gays, you get two married icons!

Non-binaries, you get an icon!

Trans individuals, you get an icon!

Lesbians!  All the icons!

Pansexuals, you get an icon!

And useless gays, you get Kyle

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senseless

sometimes i forget that pictures were once human how they ached for resolution as i do now, sitting in poorly lit rooms waiting on voices to carry me somewhere else other than the house i barred with twigs & thorns to keep my hands from escaping how they bleed with every prick of a knife i use to carve my body into something different than the face in the mirror i cannot stand to see & my knees ache from kneeling to a god i don’t believe in but i’m afraid i’ll choke on my tongue if i do not speak his name in prayers that rot my heart & i wish to say i’m sorry to those eyes in pictures, i wish to see them once more before the dust settles in my bones & i fall into eternal sleep.

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perdoe-me a ignorância, mas são todas as pessoas feitas de sonhos?

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Despe a minha alma

arranca de mim os vacilos

e suspiros

do meu ínfimo.

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Gideon Mendel’s The Ward

Memories from the heart of the Aids crisis shows true love in a time of terrible tragedy.

These heartbreaking and incredibly moving images show the affection and love shown during the height of the Aids crisis. Photographer Gideon Mendel’s project The Ward began in 1993 when he spent a number of weeks on the Charles Bell wards in London’s Middlesex Hospital. All the patients on the ward were dying with the knowledge that there was no cure for the disease. During this time antiretroviral medications were not available and patients on the ward faced the prospect of an early death.

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The Birth of a Pearl, 1903.  Dir. F.S. Armitage.

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Old Book Covers.

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Hugo Puzzuoli  -  http://hugo-puzzuoli.daportfolio.com  -  https://www.facebook.com/hugo.puzzuoli.1  -  https://www.linkedin.com/in/hugo-puzzuoli-b582907  -  http://hugoartworks.blogspot.com.es

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inside, shattered mirror.

the sun is setting miserably

over the city skyline.

light filters through the windows

like dust.

karma calls itself a dream,

a delicate desiccation—

the parable of the man who

cut off his own ear.

see, it doesn’t actually

mean anything;

nothing ever does.

i have monster in my bed

& it has left me so empty.

i watch my lips.

am i talking to me?

yes, that familiar name—

is it my name?—

rolls smoothly from these lips,

unsatisfying— still empty.

i told my heart a ghost did it.

it said,

don’t you think i’d recognize

my own touch?

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