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June 03 2018

1912 f9bc 500
Reposted fromarjusiur arjusiur
Play fullscreen

No Jef you’re not alone

Please - stop crying

Like that, in front of everybody

Just because a half-old

Just because a fake-blonde

Dumped you – again

No Jef you’re not alone

But you know, you’re shaming me

Blubbing like that

Like a fool in front of everybody

Just because a three quarter whore

Exploded in your hands

No Jef you’re not alone

But you’re a shame to behold

We’re making a spectacle of ourselves

Let’s split this sidewalk

Come on Jef, come, come

Come I still have three cents

Let’s go drink them up

At mother Francoise’s

Come Jef, come on I still have three cents

And if it’s not enough

Well, I still have a tab

Then we’ll go and eat

Some mussels and then some fries

Some fries and then some mussels

And some Moselle wine

And if you’re still sad

We’ll go visit the girls

At madame Andree’s

Seems that there are some new ones

And we’ll sing again as we did before

We’ll be together again

Just like when we were young

Like it was the old days

When I had money

No Jef you’re not alone

Stop pulling your faces

Pick up your hundred kilos

Move your ass

I know you have a heavy heart

But you must pick it up Jef

No Jef you’re not alone

But stop your sobbing

Stop bad mouthing yourself

Stop repeating

That you’re ready to drown

Or ready to hang

No Jef you’re not alone

But this is no longer a sidewalk

It’s become a cinema

Where people come to gawk at you

Come on Jef come come

Come, i still have my guitar

I’ll light her up for you

And we’ll be spanish buskers

Jef come come

Just like when we were kids

Even if I didn’t like it then

You can do your nightingale imitation

Then we’ll find ourselves a bench

We’ll talk on America

Where you know we’ll be going

When we have some bread Jef come

And if you’re still sad

Or even if you just look sad

I’ll retell the story of how

You’ll become Rockefeller

We’ll be together again

We’ll sing again like before

When we were good looking Jef

Like when it was the time

Before we became drunkards

Come on Jef come

Yes yes Jef yes come

Reposted fromKropledonosa Kropledonosa

September 13 2017


August 20 2017


The colour in anything, James Blake

All I thought it was worth
Was to mend things, are so breaking
And how I chased the glory
How I wanted to carry you for aching

And how I told you what I'd do
If one day I woke and couldn't find the colour in anything

You must not be looking
You must not be trying like I'm trying
I can't always help you
But I can listen for the sounds you're making
And how I loved your story
How I wanted to follow you and paint it

June 30 2015

Jeżeli nam się uda to cośmy zamierzyli
i wszystkie słońca które wyhodowaliśmy w doniczkach
naszych kameralnych rozmów
i zaściankowych umysłów
rozświetlą szeroki widnokrąg
i nie będziemy musieli mówić że jesteśmy geniuszami

bo inni powiedzą to za nas
i aureole
tęczowe aureole
...ech szkoda gadać
Panowie jeżeli to się uda

To zalejemy się jak jasna cholera
— Nadzieja, Andrzej Bursa.

June 26 2015

5199 4f41
Reposted fromachaya achaya
Reposted fromsailormoon sailormoon
6174 9f5f 500
googles neural net can interpret what is in a picture

but it can also draw new pictures by interpreting too much.

Here the neural net was told to search in this image for animals and humans periodicaly

this is the result

there are more
nature but no wildlife, right?
google neural net found enough

here the net interpreted from nearly nothing an image

there are many more from googles lsd trip:

Reposted fromNeutrum Neutrum

Dots (get your cursor on them!)

Reposted fromsawb sawb
Nic się nie zmienia od na dupie siedzenia.
— Patryk Pietrek.
Reposted bysaureus saureus

June 19 2015

Stéphane Massa-Bidal.
The perfect lover is one who turns into a pizza at 4:00 a.m.
— Charles Pierce.
Reposted fromFlau Flau
Ursine, Jill Greenberg.
Hermann Försterling.

Minialbum RTS vs. ŁKS, czyli co mówią łódzkie mury

60-stronicowa fotorelacja z walki na cięte riposty.
Reposted fromadamklimowski adamklimowski

June 07 2015

June 05 2015


Les Mousses by Etienne Gros.

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