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The national museum of Wroclaw, Poland.

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Jehovah’s Witnesses Conference Hall in Silkeborg, Denmark

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turkey and azerbaijan are attacking armenia right now, and it’s 1915 all over again because the world is distracted and people are too busy wondering if they’re gonna live or die, and who gives a shit about my country anyway? my mum told me to tell my friends and explain to them what’s happening and that we are the victims in this war because azerbaijan is spreading lies and people are believing their lies and i told her, what good is that going to do? do you think anyone’s going to come to our aid? is russia going to help us? is america? is england? erdogan said they will finish what their ancestors started, and he means genocide. he means ethnic cleansing. he means to massacre every last one of us. and in doing so admitted to the very same thing turkey has spent 105 years denying. i don’t know who to tell and what good telling people will do because we’re a small, insignificant country, and we have nothing to offer to the people in power, the handful who rule the world. so i sit here with my pain and i feel helpless. i know there’s twitter threads and links to petitions and people being urged to contact their senators, and sorry if im being pessimistic, but azerbaijan has been attacking us for the last 22 years, and though we defend ourselves, we can’t do anything to stop them. they’ve violated ceasefires (and geneva conventions) multiple times. i don’t think they’ll rest until every last one of us is dead.

we just want peace. we just want to live peacefully. we’re not asking for a lot here.

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“Stuff Being Thrown at My Head,” a photo series by Latvian photographer Kaija Straumanis

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Vincent & Theo Van Gogh 

Hannah Gadsby in Nanette (2018) // At Eternity’s Gate dir. Julian Schnabel (2018) // Loving Vincent dir. Dorota Kobiela & Hugh Welchman (2017) // Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to Theo Van Gogh (1880) // Almond Blossoms by Vincent Van Gogh (1890); painted as a gift for the birth of his brother Theo’s son named after him

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Hate diet culture so much bitches will b like “don’t eat processed carbs they’re so bad for you” like and??? So what?? God did not give us grain and stone to grind it with for no reason. Bread is inevitable. Bread is food for the heart and the soul. U think I’m gonna give that up in pursuit of instagram fitness?? U think I’m gonna deny myself the simple pleasure of toast with jam so I can endlessly chase an ever-shifting standard of beauty that ultimately means nothing? In 20 years I will no longer be beautiful and in 60 my body will be vacant food for other, smaller creatures. But the taste of fresh bread? Of homemade donuts and still-warm pie? I will carry the taste on my tongue into whatever follows this life. So like. Stop telling me I should diet lmao. I’m not abt to martyr myself just to get a man to look at me.

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This evil outpost

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Art by Sonia Blotiu

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Still can’t figure out why they call it Horseshoe Bend. 🤔😜 [OC 4016x6016] Arizona - Author: packtography on reddit

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A student once asked anthropologist Margaret Mead, “What is the earliest sign of civilization?” The student expected her to say a clay pot, a grinding stone, or maybe a weapon. Margaret Mead thought for a moment, then she said, “A healed femur.” A femur is the longest bone in the body, linking hip to knee. In societies without the benefits of modern medicine, it takes about six weeks of rest for a fractured femur to heal. A healed femur shows that someone cared for the injured person, did their hunting and gathering, stayed with them, and offered physical protection and human companionship until the injury could mend. Mead explained that where the law of the jungle—the survival of the fittest—rules, no healed femurs are found. The first sign of civilization is compassion, seen in a healed femur.

— Ira Byock, The Best Care Possible: A Physician’s Quest to Transform Care Through the End of Life (x)

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