12
May
lostsplendor:

Ghost of Manhattan: The Flatiron Building, 1900-2012 (via Retronaut)

Ghosts of Manhattan could be the title of a novel. I’m sure there are a billion ghosts that shimmer in the streets of New York.
You know the feeling, that whole body shiver that courses through you; you often describe it as ‘someone just walked over my grave’.
But what if someone didn’t walk over your grave? What if you have just passed through an invisible phantom of someone long dead but still walking the streets. What if, somehow, you’ve shifted back in time to where these people, the women and men in this very picture, are walking these streets, as alive and breathing as you are?
What if, as you occupy the same space but a different time as them, you soak up their feelings of urgency, of loss, of happiness, of fear, of hope, of hopelessness, of joy, of confusion, of indifference, of unfettered laughter, of rage, of lust, of malice, of kindness, of helplessness, of doom, of optimism, of love? What if that explains how and why we sometimes feel things that have no apparent explanation or foundation in reality; the feelings that we are slaves to without knowing why? Maybe we are, all of us, possessed by the shades of those that came before.

lostsplendor:

Ghost of Manhattan: The Flatiron Building, 1900-2012 (via Retronaut)

Ghosts of Manhattan could be the title of a novel. I’m sure there are a billion ghosts that shimmer in the streets of New York.

You know the feeling, that whole body shiver that courses through you; you often describe it as ‘someone just walked over my grave’.

But what if someone didn’t walk over your grave? What if you have just passed through an invisible phantom of someone long dead but still walking the streets. What if, somehow, you’ve shifted back in time to where these people, the women and men in this very picture, are walking these streets, as alive and breathing as you are?

What if, as you occupy the same space but a different time as them, you soak up their feelings of urgency, of loss, of happiness, of fear, of hope, of hopelessness, of joy, of confusion, of indifference, of unfettered laughter, of rage, of lust, of malice, of kindness, of helplessness, of doom, of optimism, of love? What if that explains how and why we sometimes feel things that have no apparent explanation or foundation in reality; the feelings that we are slaves to without knowing why? Maybe we are, all of us, possessed by the shades of those that came before.

(via thenighthawks)

25
Feb
frenchtouchx:

« To you », he said, « I surrender my heart and soul. »
She rolled her eyes. « Very romantic, considering you have neither. »


I love women with this sort of wit and intelligence.

frenchtouchx:

« To you », he said, « I surrender my heart and soul. »

She rolled her eyes. « Very romantic, considering you have neither. »

I love women with this sort of wit and intelligence.