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Away they flew: 1954,1984,1645,1881,2006,771,2041… all order lost, all knowledge vanishing, the stairway of intellection crumbling beneath her feet.  —Haruki murakami in 1Q84
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my hopefully future balcone, oh how I long for you. 

my hopefully future balcone, oh how I long for you. 

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j’aime l’idée. j’aime l’odeur. j’aime la lavande.
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j’aime l’idée. j’aime l’odeur. j’aime la lavande.

planning on cooking this little jewel for me and my mom on this rainy morning. Dear cauliflower, chickpeas & chorizo soup, my tummy will cherish you.
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planning on cooking this little jewel for me and my mom on this rainy morning.
Dear cauliflower, chickpeas & chorizo soup, my tummy will cherish you.

J’aime ces petits cactus.
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J’aime ces petits cactus.

(Source: raspyeyes, via wewerepromisedunicorns)

In our town there is a secret spot where you can still see the stars at night, believe it or not. It is the only spot like that left, unclouded by the dwindling skyscrapers rising nearby. It is a good place to go to walk and talk in whispers. Following the little hill that rises from the park to a small clearing which overlooks the statue of the armless general on his bronze steed, most of us later remember this spot as the first place we knew we might be in love.  —Joe Meno, The Boy Detective Fails (via flentes)

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