musique
☡┬

Nocturnal Ruler, Duchess-in-Waiting, Overseer

Bad Wolf.

viciouus:

WHO REMEMBERS USING THIS IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL AND IT WAS THE BEST COMPUTER LAB DAY WHEN WE COULD USE KID PIX

viciouus:

WHO REMEMBERS USING THIS IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL AND IT WAS THE BEST COMPUTER LAB DAY WHEN WE COULD USE KID PIX

plays

whitepeoplestealingculture:

White people asking questions about my turban. (Pt.1)

my neck hurts.

posted: 8 hours ago (0 notes)

nya-kin:

AFROPUNK music festival in NYC (x)

posted: 8 hours ago (13,517 notes)
via: psiioniic | ori: nya-kin

prettyboyshyflizzy:

lemme see a white person in this shirt might just pull out handcuffs and make a citizens arrest. Him: “wait why am i being arrested” Me: “you’re black now i dont need a reason”

onlyblackgirl:

ourafrica:

The Gentlemen of Bacongo” is a book Released in 2009, by Photographer Daniele Tamagni. The book features a subculture in the Congo where men express their creativity through their clothing. They are part of a cultural movement called Le Sape “a clique of extraordinarily dressed dandies from the Congo. Despite years  war and abject poverty, these men dress in tailored suits, silk ties, and immaculate footwear

Part 2

This is Africa, our Africa

Aye

(Source: ourafrica)

"Tom is our master horticulturist. He knows all the scientific names for everything, right, Tom?"

"Yup."

(Source: tyleroposey)

misbehavingmaiar:

tartapplesauce:

misbehavingmaiar:

Vladimir McCrary

Holy crap the second from the top, on the left, with the veiling - oh,wow.

And the woman with him reminds me of Edith Sitwell:

Oh my gosh you’re right! Aw, lucky ol’ Dame Edith, secretly hangin’ out with one of my favorite models…
(she wrote one of my favorite poems, incidentally.) 

Great golden Alexander and his thunder-store

Are now no more

Than the armored knight who buzzed on the 

windowpane

And the first drops of rain.

He lies in sleep… But still beneath a thatch 

Of hair like sunburnt grass, the thieving sweet

thoughts move

Towards the honey-hive… And another sweet-

tooth Alexander runs

Out of the giant shade that is his school,

To take the dark knight’s world, the honeycomb.

The Sun’s simulacrum, the gold-sinewed man, 

Lies under a hump of grass, as once I thought to

wear

With patience Goodness like a hump on my aged 

back

…But Goodness grew not with age, although my 

heart must bear

The weight of all Time’s filth, and Wisdom is not 

a hare in the golden sack