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boston, massachusetts
1972
screening of "a clockwork orange"
unidentified theater
part of an archival project, featuring the photographs of nick dewolf
© the Nick DeWolf Foundation
Image-use requests are welcome via flickrmail or nickdewolfphotoarchive [at] gmail [dot] com
A rather foggy day again in Helsinki. Photographed here is a part of the South Harbour, which is quite empty. If you don't count the fog.
Here I am sitting at home, all alone. It's easy to open up that box in the back of my mind that I always try so hard to keep locked, its even easier to walk over to the liquor cabinet and pull out my best vodka. The most frighteningly easy task is gulping down ten shots of it... and then waiting to die. Slowly, I can feel my thoughts slowing down, things start to blur, my speech starts to slur when I notice that I'm talking to myself. I say to myself, soon... not very long now... I won't have to deal with anything anymore... and hope that I don't wake up in the morning.
Is that not fucked??
That's what I dreamt of last night. I woke up this morning going, "what the hell was that all about?". I completely forgot about it until my friend came into work and told me about her fucked up dream and it brought me straight back into that feeling that I had last night. I hate the dreams where I feel... whether its physical or emotional. Sometimes I wake up crying in the middle of the night... the Boy says I shoot up screaming... but usually, I don't remember it. Other times I laugh, and then there are those yucky times where I can feel what’s happening to me in a nightmare and all I want to do when I wake up is take a shower because it was way too life-like for me. I hated the feeling I had in my dream when I was waiting for death. It was like a knot in my stomach that was slowly becoming loosened. I felt my brain slowing down, things starting to blur and all I could think to myself was "WAKE UP!". Having life-like nightmares is not something I look forward to, that's for sure... and when I find myself in a pattern of having extremely vivid dreams... I try to stay up as late as I can and get as tired as I can before falling asleep. That, or I take nyquil or something so I know I will go into a more coma-like sleep instead of a sleep filled with little REM goodies.
Here is the definition I found about dreams alcohol:
"To dream that you are consuming alcohol in excess, signifies feelings of inadequacy and regrets. You harbor fears of being discovered for who you really are. Alcohol may serve as a way for your to escape or an excuse for something you did."
Think my brain is trying to tell me something?
March 23rd, 2021
Mug courtesy of Julie ❤️☺️
Some tea and Sopranos to wind down the night. Today was a day, that’s all I really have to say. The weather was nice and I should have spent my break outside, but alas.
For the past month I’ve really been slacking with chores and setting goals and making to-do lists. I’m going to try to get back on it tomorrow. ✌
For 52 Weeks of Pics 2014
Week 38 'Bathroom'
I've had my camera poised and at the ready by the kitchen window for two days now, hoping to snap some birds coming to the birdbath for this week's theme. Needless to say, not a single feathered friend in sight, so I'm reverting to the more conventional interpretation!
Oufit: Sakide
Shoes: Renegade
Eyebrows and lipstick: Glam Affair
Arm Cuffs: MUKA
Fce Chain: Mes Sucreries
Horns: MV
Ciggy: NikotiN
Anklets: C.C. Kre-ations
Shape: Anatomy
Skin: 7 Deadly S{k}ins
boston, massachusetts
1972
piano recital
"debbie and jeff's concert"
(end of roll)
part of an archival project, featuring the photographs of nick dewolf
© the Nick DeWolf Foundation
Image-use requests are welcome via flickrmail or nickdewolfphotoarchive [at] gmail [dot] com
I would so love to see Tammy standing in front of this in 1830's clothing! Maybe that will be a future diorama. I need to get back to sewing.
The pot on the left contains the wool, warm water, and ammonia to clean it. The pot on the right is the hot water source and the big metal pan of water on the ground (far left) is the source of cold water. Cannot let the wool water get too hot or it will felt the wool fibers -- no yarn! The big basket on the ground contains clean wool.
The ammonia originally came from fermented human urine! Those must have been stinky times!
nevada
1972
old bottles
part of an archival project, featuring the photographs of nick dewolf
© the Nick DeWolf Foundation
Image-use requests are welcome via flickrmail or nickdewolfphotoarchive [at] gmail [dot] com
boston, massachusetts
1972
young woman
candid, concert at the hatch shell
part of an archival project, featuring the photographs of nick dewolf
© the Nick DeWolf Foundation
Image-use requests are welcome via flickrmail or nickdewolfphotoarchive [at] gmail [dot] com
Submitted for November MSH category "wanderlust"
Day 38
16th Sept
Eek! Chap has learnt to climb!
I turned my back for 1 minute and what should I find when I turned back round!? Chap had scaled the sofa, the radiator and P just managed to stop him from getting up onto his feet on the windowsill - although I managed to grab my camera and get a couple of snaps!
He's being such a monkey at the moment, terrible 2s are approaching! Needless to say, I won't be taking my eyes off him in the future!