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October 29 2017

swdyww:

Honestly I think when some1 kisses your hand that’s like a sign of like .. spiritual intimacy

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bryko:

These are all from the same episode

i can feel you everywhere in my flat… in my bed, at the table, in the middle of the room, in the kitchen, in the shower, in objects that I associate with you… almost as if you’re a ghost that’s haunting my place

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magicofoldies:

Ursula Andress by Peter Basch

motiya:

I never want anyone to feel obligated to be there for me because they feel like they owe me. I put my energy into loving people because it matters to me, and centers me. Others choose different things to center themselves and I accept that too and move on.

Love or energy invested in someone else isn’t a debt, but a learning experience. I’m grateful for balanced relationships because mutual respect and love is rare

yasss ok u guys now you just gotta give me the job

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theteenytinygirl:

i love just being alone.. doing a facemask.. dealing with emotional trauma alone.. LOVE it

ursulaundressed:

i think this is going to make me ill

for those who asked: bad family problems. and they tend to make me ill. they did make me ill almost always in the past and I was awake until 4 am because my stomach hurt (and still hurts) like crazy and I cough like a chainsmoker and yeah… this kind of stress is making me go insane.

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kitty-n-classe:

Alain Delon et Romy Schneider dans La pisicine (Jacques Deray, 1969)

October 28 2017

it’s like a fucking horror movie and i cannot wake up… i don’t know how to deal with this. it’s making me ill. it’s making me go insane. i just want this to stop!!!!

why is it like that AGAIN

it’s making me ill. it’s making me crazy. i don’t think i’m strong enough for this

i think this is going to make me ill

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framboisedorleac:

Françoise Dorléac and Catherine Deneuve on the day of Deneuve’s wedding to British photographer David Bailey, August 18, 1965, London.

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worstofchefkoch:

Dieses Rezept ist so raffiniert, in seiner wesenseigenen Gesamtheit so durchdacht und mit mikroskopisch-detaillierten Operationen versehen, dass es, wäre es ein Anmachspruch, “Na, Bock auf Schwanzo?” lauten würde. Heureka! Wie subtil hier Aromen aufeinandertreffen! Filligran streicheln sich Brühe und Maggi, ziehen Gewürzketchup dazu und vermengen sich durch den pulsierenden Reigen der Mikrowelle in der Unendlichkeit. Senf, Sahne, Gurkenflüssigkeit verschmelzen in erotischer Umarmung und erweitern Kopf, Geist und Arterien. Wir müssen nachgeben, werden überwältigt! Ja! Wir haben Bock auf Schwanzo! Dieses Gericht ist wie Jazz, ist wie Sex, wie sexy Jazz oder Sex zu Jazz. Alles darf, nichts muss, nur die kalkulierte Leidenschaft, ihr muss sich hingegeben werden. Nur dass dieses sexy “1 Bratwurst, 2 Soßen”-Gericht  von Mutter stammt, stört die prickelnde erotisch-subversive Wirkung. Guten Hunger! (Lena, wann hattest du das letzte mal Bock auf Schwanzo?)

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labelledeneuve:

Catherine Deneuve

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