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Seigfried

Seigfried

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Youthful only once @records33bot

إظهار المزيد
لم يتم تحديد البلدالفئة غير محددة
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لا توجد بيانات24 ساعات
لا توجد بيانات7 أيام
لا توجد بيانات30 أيام
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The immense desire to get a huge dragon and tiger tattoo on my back
+8
The immense desire to get a huge dragon and tiger tattoo on my back

Jack of all trades, Master of none, Ruler of all, Subject to none

Julia Wolf - In My Room.mp36.45 MB

04 Mashrou' Leila - Radio Romance.mp39.58 MB

Repost from Nocturne
Star Wars: A New Hope Conceptual Poster Art By John Bersky
Star Wars: A New Hope Conceptual Poster Art By John Bersky

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As women in Afganistan are stripped of basic rights unable to study, work freely, or dream without restrictions-silence is a privilege many cannot afford. Supporting women's rights is not a trend, nor a debate, It is humanity and recognizing that no one should be denied opportunities simply because they were born a woman. No one should stop talking about women in afganistan, they’re equal human beings to anyone else in this world and no one has the right to take that away from them just for being born as women Women's rights are human rights. Always have been. Always will be.

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sticker.webp0.21 KB

Thankyouu so much

- الرساله ؛ peak posting as usual

+3
02 Radiohead - Pyramid Song.mp311.28 MB

Repost from Dusk is dagger
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+2

I love when ethereal people make ethereal forms of art
+3
I love when ethereal people make ethereal forms of art

Caption was “art extracted from my soul” and i couldn’t agree more
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Caption was “art extracted from my soul” and i couldn’t agree more

الترجمة الوحيدة الي تلوگ لأغاني هوزيير

yk hangout was peak when you have zero pics to post

Repost from Dania's cult🎀
I think I am made entirely of almosts. Almost loved. Almost healed. Almost enough. A collection of unfinished stories, of hands that reached but never stayed, of doors that opened just enough to let hope in before they closed. I learned to live in the space between could have been and never was. I became fluent in goodbyes that arrived before beginnings, in promises that dissolved like rain against warm pavement. They called me resilient. I called it surviving. Yet somehow, beneath the rubble of every almost, there is still a heart reckless enough to bloom again. So maybe I am not made of almosts. Maybe I am made of endings that keep mistaking themselves for forever. And maybe, one day, I will discover that I was never almost worthy, almost lovable, or almost enough. I was simply waiting for a life that didn’t stop at almost.

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