Photo reblogged from Wanderlust with 114 notes
“I wanted to start sooner but my parents thought I would break the camera so I had to wait until they decided I was old enough and bought one for me. So I started on my 10th birthday, in my home, taking pictures of the cake and my feet and my best friend sitting on the toilet. Pretty much the same thing I do now ” – Lina Scheynius
Source: monstreux
Photo reblogged from fuck yeah, science fiction! with 92 notes
Event Horizon
Source: fuckyeahsciencefiction
Photo reblogged from [ Mia N ] with 20 notes
![mianoti:
I’ll die of a cancer of the spinal column
It will happen on an awful evening
Clear, hot, perfumed and sensual
I’ll die of the putrefaction
Of some little known cells
I’ll die of a leg torn out
By a huge rat burst out from a huge hole
I’ll die of a hundred of cuts
The sky will have fallen on me
That breaks like a heavy window
I’ll die of a shriek
Running through my ears
I’ll die of muffled wounds
Inflicted late in the night
By bald and wavering killers
I’ll die without even knowing
That I’m dying, I’ll die
Buried in the dry ruins
Of one thousand meters of collapsing cotton
I’ll die drowned in dirty motor oil
Overridden by indifferent insects
And just after, by different ones
I’ll die naked, or wrapped in a red cloth
Or sewed into a bag with razor blades
Maybe I’ll die without worrying
And with nail polish on my toes
And my hands filled with tears
And my hands filled with tears
I’ll die my eyelids torn off
Under a furious sun
When I am told, slowly
Cruel things in my ear
I’ll die of seeing kids tortured
And men surprised and deathly pale
I’ll die eaten alive by worms
I’ll die my hands bound to a waterfall
I will die burnt into a sad fire
I’ll die a bit, I’ll die a lot,
I’ll die without passion, but I’ll die interested
And then, when everything’s over
I’ll die.
— Boris Vian
[ in Italian, in French — both better than in English]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4qijynNtx1r05phwo1_500.jpg)
I’ll die of a cancer of the spinal column
It will happen on an awful evening
Clear, hot, perfumed and sensual
I’ll die of the putrefaction
Of some little known cells
I’ll die of a leg torn out
By a huge rat burst out from a huge hole
I’ll die of a hundred of cuts
The sky will have fallen on me
That breaks like a heavy window
I’ll die of a shriek
Running through my ears
I’ll die of muffled wounds
Inflicted late in the night
By bald and wavering killers
I’ll die without even knowing
That I’m dying, I’ll die
Buried in the dry ruins
Of one thousand meters of collapsing cotton
I’ll die drowned in dirty motor oil
Overridden by indifferent insects
And just after, by different ones
I’ll die naked, or wrapped in a red cloth
Or sewed into a bag with razor blades
Maybe I’ll die without worrying
And with nail polish on my toes
And my hands filled with tears
And my hands filled with tears
I’ll die my eyelids torn off
Under a furious sun
When I am told, slowly
Cruel things in my ear
I’ll die of seeing kids tortured
And men surprised and deathly pale
I’ll die eaten alive by worms
I’ll die my hands bound to a waterfall
I will die burnt into a sad fire
I’ll die a bit, I’ll die a lot,
I’ll die without passion, but I’ll die interested
And then, when everything’s over
I’ll die.
Source: mianoti
Photo reblogged from Bohemea with 331 notes
Michael Fassbender - GQ by Mario Testino, June 2012
Source: bohemea
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