i love standing outside just watching the night fog with night lights, tree shadows, and the wet smell. i fucking love that
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‘Twas a foggy morning in the cemetery. I chose to wander the tombs. We’re those crows in the distance… cawing, crying…? Or ghosts of crows long past, whispering secrets into the mist?
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The perfect day for reading a book about witches in the cemetery.
And while we're at it, let's try to revive that thing where I regularly shoot self-portraits.
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look at the spider web on the left
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“𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔶𝔢𝔞𝔯, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔬𝔯 𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔰”
-𝔑𝔦𝔫𝔞 𝔐𝔞𝔠𝔏𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔩𝔦𝔫
🍂 digital self portraits in the November fog
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