tomorrow

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I hate all this silly religion,
but you, God, I trust.

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I'm leaping and singing in the circle of your love;
you saw my pain,
you disarmed my tormentors,
You didn't leave me in their clutches
but gave me room to breathe.

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Be kind to me, God—
I'm in deep, deep trouble again.
I've cried my eyes out;
I feel hollow inside.

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Desperate, I throw myself on you:
Hour by hour I place my days in your hand,
safe from the hands out to get me.
Don't embarrass me by not showing up;
I've given you plenty of notice.

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His love is the wonder of the world.

Trapped by a siege, I panicked.
"Out of sight, out of mind," I said.
But you heard me say it,
you heard and listened.

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Be brave. Be strong. Don't give up.
Expect Him to get here soon.

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Photos: Helen Korpak
Words: The Message

365

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Posting has slowed down as life has sped up. I'm playing full time Mum at the moment but baby is sleeping so I'm taking myself to dream land via photographs.

 Exactly this time last year I was here, or Barcelona or somewhere in between. STOP!

Photos: Monterosso, Cinque Terre by Rachel Kara



glory be

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I am going to be playing milfy as of next week for a couple of months. I thought I could pretend these will be my inspo to stay chic in kaftans, maxis, peasant tops and luscious locks...but have decided not to kid myself and just love these images for the fantasy, dreamily lit Bruno Barabazan masterpieces that they are.

Trackies 4 lyfe.

Photos: Gloria by Bruno Barabazan



real stuff

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My intrigue to view examine these images of girls I hold in such high aesthetic esteem admittedly sky-rocketed when I knew they were unretouched. It is not so I can pick up on their flaws, take them off the pedestal of beauty & perfection and give myself a pat on the back for knowing that they're not so secretly, not so perfect and feel a bit better about myself. No, that's not it...they're still up there (EDITA). I thought as I typed I would be able to flesh out what then is the reason but 4 lines in and I still don't know what exactly it is... your thoughts?
Shot beside a window in the photographer Scott Trindle's admittedly dodgy London apartment, the girls came as they were with no makeup, hair or styling.
They're personal, revealing, intimate, endearing. That scar near her eye, those cracked lips, freckles on her nose, blemish on the forehead, lines in the corners of her mouth - no longer flaws - character. That which never fades.


///Just had an afterthought - as humans we are not, and never will be perfect in this human life, and by our nature we desire connection. How can we connect with (falsely via retouched) perfect (yes even in the idealistic aesthetic sense which I realise can be argued) beings when we know they are not real? Do you get what I'm saying? What a hot mess of my thoughts. I would invite you into my brain if I could...but I can't. I think my mind just started to become aware of a new somethin somethin that must have been scattered around my cerebral cortex. Woo

Photos: Scott Trindle for Viva via models.com

x

universal



Watch it. Do it. Pushed over the edge of the bed, I want to be in Spain again.

Video: Wildflowers on the edge of the universe by Kris Mileski

the cycle

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I wake, I float, I snap, I fall, I sleep, I wake, I see, I remember, I forget, I dream, I sleep...or something like that.
Early morning is my most sacred time. Need me some more of this

Photos: by Rachel Kara

damned

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"There is a fine line between your goodness and your hell, I have stopped searching."

I have to.

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Photos: Alex Jennings