Florence Italy bound.
20.Isla Vista, California.
Double majoring in psychology & global studies.• Ask me anything
First day at school, Gaza, Palestine.
I can’t stand what these children have to go through it’s so heart breaking
What was she like? I’ve waited my entire life to be asked that question. God.
What was she like?
She was beautiful. She tasted like the ocean and smelled like clementines. She wore peach lipstick and brown mascara. On
Sundays she would fill the bathtub with roses and milk. When
it was spring and the air felt raw against your skin, she would
wake herself up at three in the morning and smoke cigarettes
in the balcony. When I gave her roses on some date she gave
them to a homeless man on the way to the restaurant. She wore
dirty sneakers with the words “peace” written in red sharpie and
a white dress that hugged her wide hips to my mothers 58th
birthday party. The one where ladies asked what she was
studying and she replied Art History. She was in Pre-Med at
the top university in New York City. She said things like “we don’t
open the mail on Tuesdays” and “let’s tell the barista you’ve just found out you’re cured from cancer”. When her mother would call
begging her to come to church she would send her poems about
how birds on the telephone line are her religion. She only liked
walking around the city if it rained. What was she like? She went to train stations because she thought the homeless man playing the
violin was the best concert she’d ever find. I often asked her what
she thought of me. Her laugh was like honey. When I took her to my
gallery opening she invited her taxi driver. She had the moon
tattooed on her inner thigh. She spelled the words “infinity” onto
the crook of my neck. I remember once she took a photograph
of an elderly man speaking to his wife at her gravestone.
She called me on the way home: “Well what were you doing at the cemetery?” I asked. “Robert,” She’d said, “Don’t ask such absurd
questions.” What was she like? I woke up alone some mornings.
Her suitcase would be scattered and she screamed because she
couldn’t pay the gas bill. Our lights would turn off. What was she
like? She’d light candles in every single corner of the house. She
would read these big books written by Russian authors who didn’t know the difference between love and lust. “Oh,” She once said,
"And you do?" I laughed. I was so in love with her. The curves of her hip. The smooth tint of her back. Her eyebrows. Her smile. How her
eyes were green sea’s I saw in travel brochures. What was she like? She was the type of person to write you love poetry and bake pies
and convince you that 4:50 AM was the best time of day. What is
she like? And this is the part where my throat will burn and I’ll
scratch my collar bones because how much it hurts,
“Why don’t you ask him” I’ll say. Why don’t you ask
— I’m sorry it had to end like this (via leftgreatperhapsless)
Albert Einstein teaching a physics class at Lincoln university (HBCU in Pennsylvania) in 1946.
I wonder why I never learned that one of the smartest men in the world called racism a disease…
So you can understand why I fell in love with a city. (at Vernazza Cinque Terre)
hello from Italy.
I fell in love with a city today. (at Le Cinque Terre. Monterosso Al Mare)
tuscan sun♡ (at San Gimignano, Italy)
— (via soulsscrawl)
— read this on here today and i haven’t stopped thinking about this quote since (via tomriddl)
Girls pose by a jail that recalls the witch trials of 1692 in Salem, Massachusetts. Photo taken in 1945.
I recently learned that the water in Salem was contaminated with the fungus from which LSD is derived and a legitimate theory for the whole thing is that everyone in the town was tripping balls
This might be the greatest thing ive ever seen on the internet
We did a whole massive thing on this in history. I believe the fungus in question is called Ergot and it’s terrifying. It makes your muscles spasm so when they had seizures that was the reason, not because they were possessed. One woman had to be strapped to her bed, she was seizing so bad. And, like ‘theybuildbuildings’ said, it had the same effects as LSD; as soon as you touch it, let alone consume it, it messes with your entire system. The worst thing is, you practically always had a bad trip. Many complained about bugs crawling under their skin or monsters emerging from the shadows to scratch and bite at them until they were screaming. It was a horrendous thing and the worst part is, Ergot is still around. It grows on crops and, if your wheat isn’t properly treated, it can be eaten and you’ll most likely experience the same as the women of Salem.
god i love history
This is hella cool and almost correct…
The effects on the people of Salem were probably from consuming bread with the fungus in it, not from contaminated water. And apparently rye is way more commonly affected than wheat. In fact, often the members of the clergy were able to afford nicer bread made from wheat and thus were not as commonly affected.
You don’t go on a spasm-y trip just by touching it. You have to consume it for weeks, which results in chronic poisoning. ( If you stop eating it early enough, you may recover. So when people suffering from these “demonic possessions” took refuge in churches and stopped eating low-grade rye bread they were sometimes miraculously healed.
More interesting facts:
Ergot poisoning can result in convulsions & hallucinations, or it can cause gangrene, depending on which group of active alkaloids are present. (Horrifying, either way.) It killed a lot of people in Europe in the Middle Ages.
In Europe, often there was a strong correlation between wet summers (which provide ideal conditions for ergot) and reports of witchcraft/ possession. And in Norway and Scotland, records of witch persecution are only found in areas where rye was grown and used to make bread.
And I just learned right now that one author dude translated the word “Beowulf” as “barley-wolf” which could indicate a connection to ergot. The LSD-like effects could be a valid explanation for stories of Old Norse warriors going into the a sort of trancelike battle rage.
(this is exactly the kind of stuff my
herbologymedicinal plants class is about, it’s so cool omfg. we had a lecture on ergot last week.)
i get so affectionate when i’m sleepy it’s disgusting
— (via seeyouinsamsara)
it’s ironic how people always are the first to point out how unique they are or vocalize how they don’t fit into “one specific group”. also Christians will defend themselves till the very end about how human nature is sinful and how you can’t judge the church upon a single person/group who did wrong while claiming to be a Christian and I know that because I’ve had to explain that plenty of times. but as soon as the topic of Islam gets brought up they will categorize the entire Muslim community under one single group when in reality there are groups within the religion who believe different things.
I’m over people and their shit.