Enana preciosa!! My cutie patooti Niece Tijana Rosa <3

(Source: inkednpierced)

cocoabella:

Sunday Eye Candy :: Sabina Kelley

(Source: zarryfornication, via king-victorkim)

WOOO! Fuck yea ! Queensland this weekend, been pulling it off too long! little scared to go solo but ehh worth it to see mummy :$ Thank you Samuel Love you long time <3

HOMEBAR

(Source: falung)

Y hoy te digo que yo te di toda mi fuerza, mi ilusion
y en cambio me dejas sola, confusa
y llena de dilusion

(Source: perfectbucketlist, via outofmadnesscomescreativity)

and thank you mama Franco .

(Source: ellenpark0322)

Oh MY LORDY ;)

(Source: alc-oholic)

osidosy:

james franco.

fightthefuture:

Homesick (murga and soccer): Stories of Emigrants 

“Every city is a bunch of stones and dreams. Every city is a tribe in concrete boxes.”

One day, in a Geography lesson, the teacher tells her students that Uruguay is divided into 19 provinces.

One of them, puzzled, asks how that’s possible. His aunt was coming to visit them, and she lived in Province number 20.

Uruguay is a small South American country divided into 19 provinces. Between the years 1910 and 1940 it was greatly developed, which established the country as one of the best in cultural and socio-economic standards. It was even known as “America’s Switzerland”.

Ever since the crisis, their authorities have been alarmed by the migratory wave, an overwhelming number of Uruguayans, especially young people, were leaving their country of birth. That is why, Tabare Vazquez’s Administration decided to create a new province which serves as a containment boom for those across the borders: Province number 20. 

The second largest in population. It’s geopolitical territory: the world.

Sidney, Paris, Buenos Aires, New York. The same thing happens to every Uruguayan I’ve visited, regardless of the city. Every amusement park is the amusement park in Parque Rodo. Every coast reminds us of the rambla, and every theatre of the Summer’s Theatre.

“The city, steamboats fading away; a hallway; a bunch of geraniums without your voice. Against time, the last performance but one. The trains without railways travel along with me. In my suitcase I bring honeysuckle and violet flowers. Against time, the last performance but one. ”

We are born, we get to grow up, live and many times die tied to a random piece of land in the map, between one street and the other in a shard of civilization, just a few feets in the world. And even when we intend to spend our lives leaving and running away. Our city is always there, waiting for our return.

“Every time I escape, my city is waiting for me and only asks for me to return singing. If my fate was to be born in your corners, La Catalina will return, will return singing, to every corner.

To return, to every block in my neighbourhood and to your doorstep. To return to your place and my place in the world. Because you gave life to me, I’m a remnant of your life. Land of all my days, I want to die in your arms, my city.”

Nobody really knows Uruguay if they don’t know Province number 20. 

(Source: alicehartwell, via outofmadnesscomescreativity)