The Beast Within
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theonlyhopeformeisbands:

Canadian police on the job.
clovenhoov:

Fórn.
Am I so difficult to understand and so easy to misunderstand in all my intentions, plans, and friendships? Ah, we lonely ones and free spirits—it is borne home to us that in some way or other we constantly appear different from what we think. Whereas we wish for nothing more than truth and straightforwardness, we are surrounded by a net of misunderstanding, and despite our most ardent wishes we cannot help our actions being smothered in a cloud of false opinion, attempted compromises, semi-concessions, charitable silence, and erroneous interpretations. Such things gather a weight of melancholy on our brow; for we hate more than death the thought that pretence should be necessary, and such incessant chafing against these things makes us volcanic and menacing. From time to time we avenge ourselves for all our enforced concealment and compulsory self-restraint. We emerge from our cells with terrible faces, our words and deeds are then explosions, and it is not beyond the verge of possibility that we perish through ourselves. Thus dangerously do I live! It is precisely we solitary ones that require love and companions in whose presence we may be open and simple, and the eternal struggle of silence and dissimulation can cease.

- Friedrich Nietzsche, from Selected Letters (via violentwavesofemotion)

Aug 10 / 737 notes
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arcadiainteriorana:

Evening lanscape with a house and garden by the sea. EllekildeCarl Heinrich Bloch (Danish, 1834–1890)
samhainchrist500:

YES PLEASE!
thejournalofbisonjack:

thejournalofbisonjack:The Clearing
If you ever find yourself wondering what became of me, make your way to a forest and look for a stream, then follow its path due west—past the limbs of fallen trees and the carcasses of seasons—until you reach a clearing. For, in the ebb andflow of a life spent buffeted bydefeat and the wake from small victories, it is here where you will find me tying a rope swing to the branch of an overhanging tree, at the perfect swimming hole, on the perfect day.
blackpaint20:

Bones of All Men. Copy of Holbein’s Great Dance of Death made by Birckmann’s heirs. This exemplar is in Latin from 1555.
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