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trying to be fashion

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Hyper-realistic drawings.

Art By IG: @marco.grassi.painter

Instagram: @artwoonz

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“Año culiao raro.”

— (via los-penes-son-mi-religion)

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i never talk about these things but i can’t remain silent.

i know tumblr doesn’t give a SHIT when things happen in countries outside the “most popular ones” (such as the usa & england). it’s true, don’t lie to me. y’all don’t give A FUCK. not every issue and problem in said countries gets the appropriate exposure but in general shit shows up on the news WORLD FREAKING  WIDE. you set up donations, you help out, your spread the word, you say “pray for x”……

southern europe is burning. 

my country is burning.

people are dying - at home, on the road, trying to run away, in their cars.

yesterday my country had 300 active fires.

people are losing EVERYTHING they own.

i have a friend that is on a train right now passing through places that have been burnt to the ground and she says the smoke is so intense it’s getting inside the train and she can barely breathe.

and yet, even though several people (myself included) have been trying to bring awareness to what has been happening in southern europe… what we get from most of you, those not part of the countries suffering, is silence. we don’t ask for money, we don’t ask for shit other than a reblog to spread awareness… something you can delete in 24/48hrs if you wish. 

i don’t know what to tell you. i’m angry. i’m frustrated. i’m disappointed. i feel like i’m screaming into the void. “a reblog does nothing” - you know that’s a damn lie, you know exposure always helps, you know people start paying attention when posts on social media become popular. my country in particular is a small one, we get ZERO exposure. y’all are only starting to figure out we even fucking exist bc of the shit we’ve been winning lately. 

but hell, if the EU doesn’t give a shit, why should some user on tumblr dot com?

again, i don’t know what to tell you so i’ll let the images speak for themselves: 

An image captured by a Nasa satellite shows a thick plume of smoke blowing southward from the Greek island of Chios over the island of Crete

Torneros de Jamuz, Spain

Duca, Croatia

A helicopter from Italy’s civil protection service drops water on a fire near the railway between Venice and Trieste

Residents take refuge on the beach as a wildfire burns on the mountain next to the village of Lithi, on the Greek island of Chios

Men gather cattle during a forest fire in Vieira de Leiria, Marinha Grande, Portugal.

Charred trees are seen on the hills above the Cloister of Thivaidas on Mount Athos, a World Heritage Site in Greece

Portugal

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HOUSE OF ENID / URBAN PARADISE EDITORIAL

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                      Reblog  en 11 segundos 

                        y recibirás una buena 

                                   noticia ⠀                 

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Mi abuelo me dijo una vez: “las relaciones que funcionan son aquellas que comprenden que no siempre se puede dar un 50/50. Algunos días, cuando me levanto, sólo puedo dar 10, entonces tu abuela tiene que dar el 90 que falta. A veces yo pongo 60 y ella un 40 porque lo importante es que exista un 100% de amor.”

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I’ve never been so satisfied watching a bearded dragon eat blueberries. 12/10 must watch!

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“Trátense como al principio y nunca habrá final”

—

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choking on water is the worst because how do you stop choking? drink something? well ive got some bad news for you

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meeting a new group of people

me: hi! so where are you guys from :D

normal people: I am from Russia/Brazil/Italy/Australia/etc :)

Americans, assuming studying the specific geography of their country was ever relevant to me: Oh I was born in iower but went to school in Oregano (My parents come from East Carolina though):~)

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“Can you pass me the salt, Cherry?”

“No,” she answered after a long pause. “It’s bad for you.”

“I’m aware…” I said, but still neither of her two arms made a move for the short cylindrical jar of sodium chloride. She just sat there, licking her lips, smacking on nothing, her eyebrows occasionally scrunching up as she read something supposedly interesting in the newspaper on her lap.

I took a look around the room. The walls were bold red and the clock kept staring at me.

“Where did you go today?” I asked.

“Nowhere. The mall, the park, the other park.”

“Oh! How was the other park?” The other park was my favorite park.

“It was fine, but I lost the dog again. Picked up a new one from the kiosk on the way home.”

“I thought he looked different,” I said, looking down at the Chihuahua at my feet, who had been staring fiercely at the clock the entire meal.

“Did you get a new clock?” I inquired, trying to avoid eye contact with it.

“It came with the dog.”

“Oh,” I said as I reached across the table and poured some salt on my newspaper.

“That’s bad for you,” said the clock.

“Let him make his own decisions,” said the new dog, briefly glancing at me before continuing his stare-off with the new clock.