far out, man. ๐ŸŒžโœŒ๐ŸŒป
sold my soul to rock n roll.
far out, man. ๐ŸŒžโœŒ๐ŸŒป
โ–ฒ
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humansofnewyork:

“I moved here from Jamaica when I was six, and my accent was so bad that I had to spend two years in ESL classes before anyone could understand me. I remember feeling very frustrated. I was surrounded by people with really thick accents who were trying to tell me that I needed to get rid of my accent.”
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humansofnewyork:

“We were laying in bed just the other night, looking at the ceiling, and I said: ‘You know, it’s been thirty years, and it’s never felt worn. There’s never been a sense of tiredness with you.’”
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karinabeat:

John attaches to the string cigarette
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lateralshenanigans:

“Night can swallow you up, yet none of it touches you. Around any corner, there’s a promise of something daring and ideal and things are just getting going. There’s something obscenely joyful behind every door, either that or somebody crying with their head in in their hands. A lazy rhythm looms in the dreamy air and the atmosphere pulsates with bygone duels, past-life romance, comrades requesting comrades to aid them in some way. You can’t see it, but you know it’s there.” ~ Bob Dylan
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