"freedom is what you do with what's been done to you"

jean-paul sartre

Sacha Van Dorssen - Fashion editorial for Vogue UK, 1972

blackbird's song

Take your things, leave somehow.

Blackbird song is over now.

River runs, hands are tied.

Preacher's son,

pack your things, leave somehow.

Desperate song is over now.

Don't be scared

I'm still here.

No more time for crying tears.

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.”

― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

are we instruments of fate?

fred astaire meets radiohead

last flowers

Appliances have gone berserk

I cannot keep up

Treading on people's toes

Snot-nosed little punk

And I can't face the evening straight

You can't offer me escape

Houses move and houses speak

If you take me there you'll get relief

Relief, relief, relief...

And if I'm gonna talk

I just wanna talk

Please don't interrupt

Just sit back and listen

'cause I can't face the evening straight

You can't offer me escape

Houses move and houses speak

If you take me there you'll get relief

relief, relief, relief, relief, relief...

It's too much

Too bright

Too powerful

Too much

Too bright

Too powerful

Too much

Too bright

Too powerful

Too much

Doors slam Lights black

I see tons of people looking lost and lethal

let your heart be light