There's a black hole in everyone's brain...

I use tumblr as some sort of journal where I'll record each one of my dreams. Nothing weird, I just think that dreams are a great way to learn about people and why we act the way we do in society. Any way... CHECK IT>>>


Reblogged from thegardennymph

An Ocean of Fear

Last night I had a weird dream about going to the beach with my mother, father and little sister. We got out of the car, parked and, as we placed our feet on the unusually soft pavement, we realized that the waves of the ocean were getting too close. The ocean was about to be spilled into our side - the dry land.

Suddenly, a woman (apparently dressed in 60’s fashion and, as I turned, life appeared to have shifted into a photograph-like format from the 60’s too) was calling us from a short distance. As I turned all the way back, I noticed there was a very orange and very square house right behind us. The woman was waving at us, telling us to go inside, so we did.

As we “got in,” there was no ”inside” inside the house. As we went through the door, there were stairs leading into the ocean. The woman was no longer there of course, but I was in front of everybody and decided to keep walking, as if everything was normal. When I got to the last step, I stared into the ocean. What I saw is unrealistic, but at the same time real in my own little world.

I could see my fears all over the ocean. There were spiders floating, black holes, dead people… Many things that have always terrified me.

I could not go in. Instead, I woke up and ended my nightmare.

Reblogged from lifes-good-so-im-livin-great
sofapizza:

RISE, MY YEAST MINIONS!!

sofapizza:

RISE, MY YEAST MINIONS!!

(Source: lifes-good-so-im-livin-great, via hicockalorum)


Reblogged from gyps-sea

(via jjesca)

Reblogged from firsttimeuser
firsttimeuser:

Festival, Republic Square, 1950 by Izis Bidermanas

firsttimeuser:

Festival, Republic Square, 1950 by Izis Bidermanas

My dream house

By the way, this has nothing to do with my dream but I found this picture of an awesome playground in Denmark. Take a look:

Annie “Mushroom Hat” Playground

OK. So, I finally remember what I dreamt last night. This has been a recurrent dream, so it’s not really new. But here it goes:

I was walking on some foggy, yet sunny street when, suddenly, someone approached me (I can’t remember if it was either a man or a woman). They seemed desperate and wanted me to go with them, so I did. Next, I found myself on some talkshow, standing behind a marroon curtain… I heard a man’s voice announcing my “finally here!” And then, there I was. I was the new talkshow host. Then, everyone in the audience started laughing (for some reason I couldn’t see anyone, I could just hear their laughter)… I got really nervous and began looking for exits. It was not long when I noticed there was something on my head. I reached slowly with both my hands and there it was. The person who brought me here somehow managed to place a mushroom top on my head. So, now, I was wearing a mushroom hat.

[That’s not therecurrentdream, this is:]

My second dream was about me, also walking down the street when another person tried to take me somewhere. This time, I do remember it was a man.

Anyway, the man took my hand and neither of us said a word until we got there. I wasn’t scared, which was weird, but when we finally arrived, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Right there, in front of us, an enormous playground. It was almost the size of a mall… Then, I went in. Inside I found a few friends, including my boyfriend and his little sister, though they sort of ignored throughout the entire dream. I kept going in deeper and deeper into this weird maze that went up and down with stairs and everything. I got a little lost, so thenI got really scared because it was now getting really dark out… After a few minutes of losing my mind andself in there, I found my way out. When my feet touched the concrete, I realized something was different. I turned around to look at the amazing playground, it was gone. I don’t know what happened…

This playground is pretty similar, yet nothing like the one in my dream, but here it is:

THE END.

Reblogged from jesuisperdu
Reblogged from jesuisperdu

PROcrastinator

I just realized I haven’t said shit about my dreams. I’ve had several weird dreams since that last post. Let’s see if anything happens inside my mind tonight… then I’ll post something… maybe…

Reblogged from sisterwolf
sisterwolf:

Martha Graham, 1924

sisterwolf:

Martha Graham, 1924

Reblogged from hollyhocksandtulips
Reblogged from premier-politics

Reblogged from forestmilk
forestmilk:

Throughout the mid to late 1970s and upwards, Hiroshi Sugimoto packed up a folding 4x5 camera & tripod, surreptitiously entered matinees (and, one can only presume, evening film events) and documented the interior of movie theatres across the United States. He would open the shutter just before the ‘first light’ hit the screen and close it after the credits finished rolling and before the house lights came on. Using this method he was able to invert the subject/object relationship of the movie theatre and use the film itself to illuminate the proscenium and interior. This content, largely unaddressed critically, is what lends the images their incredible power — along wtih the natural fascination of being made privy to the photography’s divine birthright — allowing us to see the normally invisible, to experience a finite collapse of time.

forestmilk:

Throughout the mid to late 1970s and upwards, Hiroshi Sugimoto packed up a folding 4x5 camera & tripod, surreptitiously entered matinees (and, one can only presume, evening film events) and documented the interior of movie theatres across the United States. He would open the shutter just before the ‘first light’ hit the screen and close it after the credits finished rolling and before the house lights came on. Using this method he was able to invert the subject/object relationship of the movie theatre and use the film itself to illuminate the proscenium and interior. This content, largely unaddressed critically, is what lends the images their incredible power — along wtih the natural fascination of being made privy to the photography’s divine birthright — allowing us to see the normally invisible, to experience a finite collapse of time.