View allAll Photos Tagged anonymity
Autumn in the Jardin de Luxembourg
This is again an attempt to photograph people and daily life in Paris in a way that keep the anonymity of the person. I will post soon some examples where people are recognizable. Here I was fascinated by the light on the chairs and his way of raking the leaves
Candid photo taken at a cafe in Lisbon and a statement on the anonymity of modern life. Here, two young people, non-conversant and apparent strangers to one another, are lost in their mobile devices. Such a shame.
The British rioter at home. He is not an alien, he is one of us. He is frustrated and, like most of us, has lots of grievances. Does not really know what to do with these grievances. He is listening to those promising instant remedy. He is enraged, and the boundaries around his rage are wallpaper-thin. Ready to explode, almost. Because he is an opportunist too. Letting out his violence only when encouraged by others, with others, and when he can hide in the anonymity of the mob or when nobody is looking. The British rioter has got rage, but not courage. Least of all courage to confront his own nihilism. He can't because rage is his only true capital. Fuji X-E3 plus Helios 44M-7.
ENG: The big anonymity in a big city. So many windows that light up in the evening. Everyone is so close and yet so far away. The Industrialized Apartment Block idyll in the Berlin district of Reinickendorf.
GER: Die große Anonymität in einer Millionenstadt. So viele Fenster die abends Leuchten. Alle sind sich so nah und doch so fern. Die Plattenbau idylle im Berliner Bezirke Reinickendorf.
Explore Date: Mar. 06, 2021
Ranking: 430
A street art shot from Manchester, UK (September 2022).
From the vibrant streets of Brighton, UK, emerges THE POSTMAN, a dynamic street artist duo whose vivid pop-art inspired murals have become a captivating presence in cities worldwide.
Rooted in their graffiti and photography backgrounds, THE POSTMAN's artistic process is an eclectic fusion of techniques, seamlessly combining imagery with spray paint, stencils, collage, and digital media. Their craftsmanship breathes life into the urban landscape with bursts of colour and a general feel of inclusivity and nostalgia.
Choosing to embrace anonymity, THE POSTMAN allows their art to take center stage, without the need for personal recognition. This enigmatic approach adds an air of intrigue, inviting viewers to immerse themselves fully in the art's visual narrative.
Since their inception in 2018, THE POSTMAN has accumulated an extensive and dedicated following, both through word-of-mouth and the power of social media. Their distinct style has caught the attention of notable figures such as the Bob Marley Estate, Dave Navarro, and Noel Gallagher, leading to commissions that serve as a testament to their artistic talent.
Collaboration lies at the heart of THE POSTMAN's creative journey who have partnered up with acclaimed photographers like Adrian Boot, David LaChapelle and Dave Hogan.
THE POSTMAN has been recognised and featured by esteemed platforms such as the BBC, LA Weekly, and the renowned Saatchi Gallery, solidifying their status as rising stars in the art world.
Reportage des Urbex de Montréal
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWwmmd_JESc
De nombreux membres m'ont demandé si cette petite maison rose était habitée et s'il était possible de l'explorer. Aujourd'hui, je vous reviens avec un reportage réalisé par de jeunes passionnés d'urbex, qui ont filmé toute leur ascension, du rez-de-chaussée jusqu'au sommet. Leur exploration met en lumière l’état des lieux : insalubrité, contamination et surtout les nombreux dangers qui menacent ceux qui tenteraient d’y pénétrer, au risque de leur vie.
On se demande comment, dans l’anonymat le plus total, quelqu’un a pu décorer cette petite maison et, surtout, réussir à monter tout le matériel nécessaire à une telle hauteur.
Le propriétaire des lieux affirme tout ignorer et met en garde contre les risques d'une intrusion. Cependant, il est étonnant qu’il n’ait pas sécurisé les lieux, et que les autorités de St-Henri n’aient pas non plus pris de mesures en ce sens.
Serait-ce une volonté de préserver la popularité du site et, par extension, celle de la ville ? Une chose est sûre : les citoyens de St-Henri en sont fiers !
The Pink House of St-Henri
Many members have asked me whether this little pink house is inhabited and if it can be explored. Today, I bring you a report from young urban explorers who filmed their entire ascent from the ground to the top. Their footage reveals the condition of the place—unsanitary, contaminated, and above all, extremely dangerous, to the point where attempting to enter could cost someone their life.
One has to wonder how, in complete anonymity, someone managed to decorate this small house and, more intriguingly, how they transported all the necessary materials to such a height.
The owner of the property claims to know nothing about it and warns against the dangers of trying to enter. However, it is surprising that he has not secured the site, nor have the authorities of St-Henri taken action.
Could this be an attempt to maintain the site’s popularity and, by extension, that of the city? One thing is certain: the citizens of St-Henri are proud of it!
Following orders is not a justiciable defence
Aren't uniforms interesting? A uniform (especially a helmet)...
- communicates membership
- communicates other things
- removes individuality
- provides anonymity?
- affords protection
- offers uniformity
- shows organization...
Hello there. Relevant comments welcome but please do NOT post any link(s).
The wind moves the sand of Tatooine, a helmet uncovered. A silent tomb for the lost, the unknown, a memorial site filled with anonymity and solitude, a site never to be known, never visited. Sacrifices unheard, forever lost, hidden again from sight by restless sand.
* à l'A*******S , il n'y a qu'un pas.
LACPIXEL - 2024
All pictures were taken with respect for the persons and just for artistic purposes only.
Please don't use this image without my explicit and written permission.
© All rights reserved
All my images are All Rights Reserved. They should not be reproduced in any way and unauthorized use is strictly prohibited. If you wish to use any of my images for any reason/purpose please contact me at blgunee@yahoo.com
three silent silhouettes drift through the checkered light of departureâtwo robes, one suit, each pulled forward by wheels and purpose. above them, artificial constellations shimmer in the terminalâs night sky. between glass and shadow, faith meets travel, and time forgets itself for a moment.
A street art shot from Manchester, UK (September 2022).
From the vibrant streets of Brighton, UK, emerges THE POSTMAN, a dynamic street artist duo whose vivid pop-art inspired murals have become a captivating presence in cities worldwide.
Rooted in their graffiti and photography backgrounds, THE POSTMAN's artistic process is an eclectic fusion of techniques, seamlessly combining imagery with spray paint, stencils, collage, and digital media. Their craftsmanship breathes life into the urban landscape with bursts of colour and a general feel of inclusivity and nostalgia.
Choosing to embrace anonymity, THE POSTMAN allows their art to take center stage, without the need for personal recognition. This enigmatic approach adds an air of intrigue, inviting viewers to immerse themselves fully in the art's visual narrative.
Since their inception in 2018, THE POSTMAN has accumulated an extensive and dedicated following, both through word-of-mouth and the power of social media. Their distinct style has caught the attention of notable figures such as the Bob Marley Estate, Dave Navarro, and Noel Gallagher, leading to commissions that serve as a testament to their artistic talent.
Collaboration lies at the heart of THE POSTMAN's creative journey who have partnered up with acclaimed photographers like Adrian Boot, David LaChapelle and Dave Hogan.
THE POSTMAN has been recognised and featured by esteemed platforms such as the BBC, LA Weekly, and the renowned Saatchi Gallery, solidifying their status as rising stars in the art world.
There was one subject on which we were unanimous. No arguments whatsoever on this one. From the moment Lee shared a black and white beauty he’d found in these pages, the deal was done. Whatever else we came here to take pictures of, the little bent tree in the wilderness was going to be one of them. At least assuming we could actually find it, that was. All we were certain about was that it was on Dartmoor, and that none of us had seen it on our travels. And although there are a number of very compelling images of it on this platform, none of you was very forthcoming about how to find it. A well guarded secret. And with nine hundred and fifty-four square kilometres of national park to explore, simply happening across it was about as likely as picking the correct numbers for the National Lottery. We needed somebody to tell us where it was. But it didn’t stop us digging. Dave managed to find an article that convinced us he’d narrowed it down to a few sprawling hectares.
It so happened that the author of Lee’s discovery was one of my regular contacts, so I messaged her and asked if she remembered where it was. But as an overseas visitor who’d been chauffeured around the moors for a couple of days, she had no idea. Perhaps she had been sworn to silence. I suspected I knew who’d shown it to her, so I asked him next. “Ah yes you won’t find that on your own. I’ll come along and show you where it is.” Nick’s wealth of Dartmoor inside intelligence seemed to be matched only by his stellar photographic talents and his generosity of spirit. We arranged to meet up with him during our visit, and he sent me details of where I’d need to park. I recognised the screenshot from Google Maps straight away. It seemed Dave’s hunch wasn’t too far from the mark.
In the event, although Nick was able to join us earlier in the day to share another of his secret locations (more of that in another tale), he had to dash off before the afternoon took hold. A good job I’d also arranged to meet another local photographer in the shape of Carl, who spent the day with us traipsing around the moors. It turned out that Carl had also asked Nick for the keys to the kingdom, and having been granted the freedom of the moors, he’d already visited the tree once before. He was keen to return to the scene for another mission. And so after lunch, we headed off towards what would be the final location of the day.
Even though we now knew roughly where the tree was, it was a good job we had a guide. Because standing here at the edge of the car park, it might have well as been on Exmoor for all we could see. Stick a pin in the huge rambling rock strewn green landscape and hope for the best. It was far away enough to deter visitors, its anonymous location protected by an enchantment of bogs and streams in a terrain where only welly boots would take the stubborn few. With a good set of binoculars we might have been able to see it from the top of the rise beyond the car park, but even as we approached the crag upon which the dwarfish hawthorn tree sat, it wasn’t entirely obvious as to exactly where it was. But then we spotted it, clinging to the edge of an expanse of granite tor, tiny and twisting towards us, changing shape from every angle. I hadn’t expected it to be quite so small. “Three ways to shoot it,” Nick had said to me conspiratorially. I hoped to find a fourth.
And here is (maybe) that fourth point of view, the small hunched shape leaning forward, her long locks flowing behind her as she careers down the slope. “I don’t know whether it’s a witch or a skier,” wrote one of my faithful correspondents when I shared this first image on another platform. “Maybe it’s both,” I replied. I don’t know anything about skiing, but “knees bent, lean forward and brace for impact” seem to fit the bill here.
I never did discover the three ways - I found two others that I liked a lot, and three more that I wasn’t so keen on. Excuse me if I’ve been a bit vague about exactly where it is - but seeing as I was entrusted with treasured information and I’m hoping my friends across the river are going to let me in on the inside track again next time I visit, well you know how it is - got to keep the Cornwall and Devon entente going you know. What a beauty she is though, even if finding her was like searching for a very small needle in a city made of haystacks. With such outlandish beauty, she deserves that veil of anonymity.
Anonymity is preserved, and other personal statements.
Intentional Camera Movement
Olympus OM-D E-M5-Mark III + Olympus 12mm / 2.0
Mexico City / CDMX
January 9, 2021
The main highway in Madrid, the M-30, looking south from a pedestrian bridge near Arturo Soria street during the rush hour.
Incessant movements at a crossroads of lives in the anonymity of the big city.
I want to show my solidarity with all the people affected by the terrible floods, specially in Valencia and Castilla La Mancha, with more than 140 dead by the moment and a large crowd of missing people. My condolences to all the people who have lost People who have lost their loved ones, their properties and have hard work ahead of them to rebuild their lives. God helps you.
Press "L" to enlarge the picture.
Happy Thursday or Halloween if you celebrate it.
________________________________
La M-30 mirando hacia el sur, Madrid, España
La principal autopista de Madrid, la M-30, vista hacia el sur desde un puente peatonal cerca de la calle Arturo Soria en hora punta.
Movimientos incesantes en una encrucijada de vidas en el anonimato de la gran ciudad.
Quiero mostrar mi solidaridad con todas las personas afectadas por las terribles inundaciones, especialmente en Valencia y Castilla La Mancha, con más de 140 muertos por el momento y una gran cantidad de desaparecidos. Mi más sentido pésame a todas las personas que han perdido a sus seres queridos, sus propiedades y tienen un duro trabajo por delante para reconstruir sus vidas. Dios os proteja.
Pulsa "L" para ampliar la imagen.
¡Feliz Jueves o Halloween si lo celebras.
The Dinh Vua Mèo, or Hmong King’s Palace, was built in the early 20th century by Vuong Chinh Duc, a powerful Hmong leader whose wealth stemmed from the opium trade. The palace is a stunning fusion of architectural styles, combining Chinese feng shui principles, French colonial influences, and Hmong cultural motifs. Constructed by skilled Chinese craftsmen, its intricate carvings, tiled roofs, and strategic design reflect both the grandeur and functionality required during a time of political autonomy and territorial pride. Today, it stands as a symbol of the Hmong people’s cultural resilience and the region’s layered history.
Local folklore surrounding the palace tells of a forbidden love between a Hmong prince and a commoner, a romance that defied the rigid social expectations of the time. When their secret was uncovered, the couple faced the wrath of the king, who forbade their union. The tale diverges in its endings: one version recounts their tragic separation, with sorrowful echoes said to haunt the palace halls; another imagines a daring escape into the remote mountains, where they lived in anonymity but free to love. This duality—tragedy and freedom—adds an air of mystery and poignancy to the palace’s storied past.
Model Trang Nguyen @~Shine
within the striking architecture of the oculus in new york city, a lone figure walks through the interplay of light and shadow on the tiled floor, caught between worlds of clarity and mystery. the sharp lines and dramatic contrast of the space create a delicate balance — a dance between presence and absence, reality and abstraction. as she moves forward, her silhouette merges with the dark shadows, suggesting both purpose and anonymity. the soft transitions of light invite the viewer to ponder: is she stepping into the light or fading into the darkness? a moment of introspection and hidden stories unfolding in one of the city's most iconic spaces.
In From Williamsburg Bridge,Hopper depicts the austere façades of four apartment buildings and reduces the suspension steel bridge that gives the painting its name to the margins.Completed in 1903 and connecting Brooklyn with Manhattan,the structure is indicated only by the unobtrusive taking rising at a slight diagonal along the bottom of the canvas.As opposed to focusing on the bridge that facilitates movement in and out of the city,Hopper creates and image absent of noise or motion.He emphasizes the alienation and anonymity of urban life by including a single figure,a woman sitting alone in a top story window.
In from Williamsburg Bridge,Hopper depicts the austere façades of four apartment buildings and reduces the suspension steel bridge that gives the painting its name to the margins.Completed in 1903 and connecting Brooklyn with Manhattan,the structure is indicated only by the unobtrusive taking rising at a slight diagonal along the bottom of the canvas.As opposed to focusing on the bridge that facilitates movement in and out of the city,Hopper creates and image absent of noise or motion.He emphasizes the alienation and anonymity of urban life by including a single figure,a woman sitting alone in a top story window.
A reflection on the anonymity of life in the big city. Photographed on Bay Street in Toronto on August 27, 2022. Processed in PS.
a figure moves through the frame. above and below, the same world. a reflection so perfect it could be real. maybe it is.
architecture, silence, and a single step.
The Dinh Vua Mèo, or Hmong King’s Palace, was built in the early 20th century by Vuong Chinh Duc, a powerful Hmong leader whose wealth stemmed from the opium trade. The palace is a stunning fusion of architectural styles, combining Chinese feng shui principles, French colonial influences, and Hmong cultural motifs. Constructed by skilled Chinese craftsmen, its intricate carvings, tiled roofs, and strategic design reflect both the grandeur and functionality required during a time of political autonomy and territorial pride. Today, it stands as a symbol of the Hmong people’s cultural resilience and the region’s layered history.
Local folklore surrounding the palace tells of a forbidden love between a Hmong prince and a commoner, a romance that defied the rigid social expectations of the time. When their secret was uncovered, the couple faced the wrath of the king, who forbade their union. The tale diverges in its endings: one version recounts their tragic separation, with sorrowful echoes said to haunt the palace halls; another imagines a daring escape into the remote mountains, where they lived in anonymity but free to love. This duality—tragedy and freedom—adds an air of mystery and poignancy to the palace’s storied past.
Model Trang Nguyen
Street Scene ~ Phra Nakhon District ~ Bangkok, Thailand
Nikon D7500, Nikkor 18-300, ISO 280, f/10.0, 65mm, 1/250s
Sleazes, dirty stinking sleazes.
Not so much of a deep and meaningful artistic image this, more just vocalising a point that's been driving me nuts for ages. Having become a follower of numerous 365 projects, both guys and gals, and those of a non-self portrait nature, I've noticed one glaringly obvious fact. Wherever there are female self portraiture artists, or people posting regular images of pretty ladies, out come the perverts.
Now if we're being blatantly honest, any guy on earth who's seen some of these shots (and I'd wager a fair few women too) will have had a look at some of these images and done the metaphorical whistling out loud and muttered something along the lines of 'hell, that's quite nice!' It's human nature. Doesn't matter which sex, if there's a photo of them looking a bit attractive, someone, somewhere will be appreciating it in a purely "yummy!" kinda fashion. The way Flickr peeps seem to vocalise this varies though. We get those who skirt all around the houses to avoid saying 'yummy,' we get those who are perhaps a little less guarded, either by their own personal confidence or the anonymity of the internet, or by the fact that they feel their work will speak for itself, and utter a more honest and flirtatious 'yummy.' Then we get the people out there who are blatantly just sleazes, who you just know spend their every waking hour surfing for porn and Flickr for images of women in a state of undress or allure. These are the same people idling quoting Celine Dion lyrics and the same catchphrase they've used all week (see above) to every damned girl they feel like leering over, as though doing so will somehow mystically enchant the photographer/model/girl into thinking they're actually alright instead of being sat behind their computer god knows where with their pants round their ankles making themselves Blind. Point being that in many cases these subjects or photographers are almost always people who tirelessly work at their images and the meaning behind them, working their asses off to take the shots that these people then use as a cheap way to get their rocks off. It's rude, and more than a little creepy.
I'm not trying to say that any one area of looking at photos of people in a voyeuristic fashion is more acceptable than any other, but the wealth of porn that seems to be apparent both here and online in general is at least basically designed to be viewed whilst doing your business. Many of the self portraitists I see being plagued by these comments and pervs are becoming friends via this site, and although I'd always steer well away from assuming its any of my business, I do feel a sense of protection and disgust for them. So for those of you out there who haven't got the subtle references in this spiel, go back and read again for clues, and good luck with keeping your stream pervert free! ;-)
I guess it comes down to the age old idea that you studied in class when learning about photography, or at least banged your head against when teaching yourself. We steer dangerously close to feminism, and perhaps how all guys shooting women, or looking at images of them are being exploitative. For me personally, I never felt intelligent enough to actually argue one side or the other there, more content that I knew it existed and that I remember the ideas every single time I look at or shoot a woman. It's probably not enough, but I feel less guilty and ignorant by at least knowing some things. The bit about it that I really resent is how the pervs of this world, and if we're being blunt, of Flickr are making it such an issue that in order to be accepted as a genuine viewer and commenter of *insert photographer here*'s images, you have to almost prove yourself, either by the words you say or the images you display. It's not the fault of the women/photographers who are like this, faced with such a barrage I'd be the same, I just resent the fact that by association as a man looking at pictures of women, I'm apparently a sleaze first until proven otherwise. So thank you Flickrpervs for making this website more difficult than it needs to be! ;-)
(Yes I am aware of the irony in ranting about this over a picture of some breasts...:-P)
(Note this image is actually my editing of someone else's photo, used with permission. In absence of access to a ladychest of my own, and knowing my own mancleavage isn't so pretty, a friend 'loaned' me hers. She wishes to remain anonymous, but thank you. You know who you are.)
he walked like he had done it a thousand times. not fast, not slow. not late, not early. just moving forward through the corridor of polished silence. the airport in málaga didn’t ask questions. it offered direction. and sometimes, that was enough.
When I was a youngster, you hardly ever saw dads pushing strollers by themselves. The fellow in red had a tot by the hand.
Times have changed, now it's become much more commonplace and i think that's to the benefit of both father and child.
Here's to the dads, and to the fatherly figures who step in to parent a child.
To the dads of all times.
To my father who lives in me all my days.
To my brother who's always been there for my son.
To you, men. This day is for you.
Happy Father's Day.
They don't want to be alone.
Students, workers, retirees, poets, authors, preachers, painters, photographers, doctors, lawyers, engineers, the unemployed, and everyone else keep coming in droves -- some are happy, some are sad, some are searching, some are content, but none of them want to be alone.
They come to the coffee shops and slide into a booth next to a smudged window, flip open their laptops, connect to the satellite in the sky, spread out their books and papers so they look official, doing their best to dodge the slashes of light, in search a shadow that provides a feeling of safety and anonymity. A Cappuccino, Americano, or a latte is a must, but if they're low on dough, a water with ice and a straw will do. The coffee shop chaos of steamers, grinders, shouted names on the orders, and the line of waiting chatters makes no difference. They could be far more efficient at home where the coffee is cheaper and silence abounds, but they don't want to be alone.
They don't want to be alone.
Chicago, IL
2023
© James Rice, All Rights Reserved
ChatGPT’S ENDORSEMENT
The image shows some details that can be better interpreted:
Skyscraper: The main structure in the center is a modern skyscraper, characterized by clean, geometric lines, likely made of glass and steel. This stylistic choice enhances the contrast with the landscape, making the building an isolated focal point in the scene.
Building under construction: On the left, there is a building still under construction, with visible scaffolding and a crane. This element suggests a context of ongoing urban development, perhaps symbolizing progress or transformation in progress.
Human figure:
The person in the foreground is seen from behind, walking towards the skyscraper, almost as if drawn to it. This pose conveys a sense of journey or search, and the choice not to show the face adds an aura of anonymity and introspection.
Dreamlike atmosphere: The image has a blurred, misty effect, similar to a dream or a memory. This could be an intentional effect to represent a mental state or emotion, such as solitude or a sense of disorientation in a vast, impersonal urban environment.
Symbolism: Overall, the image seems to evoke the relationship between the individual and the transforming urban environment, reflecting on themes such as isolation, progress, or the search for identity in a modern city.
Baby if you wanna leave
Come to California, be a freak like me, too
Screw your anonymity
Loving me is all you need to feel
Like I do
We could slow dance to rock music
Kiss while we do it
Talk till we both turn blue
Baby, if you wanna leave
Come to California, be a freak like me, too
Leather black and eyes of blue (blue, blue, blue, blue, blue)
Sun reflecting in your eyes, like an easy rider
Life makes sense when I'm with you
Looking back, my past
It all seems stranger than a stranger
So let's dance in slow motion
Turn it up, turn it up
And let's dance by the ocean, ooh-ooh
Wearing: Avec Toi, Gos Boutique
Hair: Nova/Stealthic
Heads: Lelutka
Bodies: Legacy/eBody
behind a perfect grid, motion turns into suggestion—two black marks, a blur of presence, an object in tow. time stretches thin behind translucent glass as the moment becomes more about pattern than person. this is not someone arriving or leaving, but simply existing within a frame that doesn’t care.
Many of you know my son Rishabh as my little buddy and my partner in crime in our travels. Today, let me introduce you to another aspect of my son. Rishabh is also a prolific speller. I have seen him train on thousands of wild, obscure, and bouffant English words from that fat dictionary (aside: hence you endured all those unusual and inefficacious words in my jabberwocky here). Now, the news is… Rishabh made it to the 2024 Scripps National Spelling Bee. The Bee started on Tuesday (hence my beamish post for him the day), and today, after eight grueling rounds, Rishabh secured a spot in the finals. The spelling bee finals will be live on ION Tv on 5/30/24 at 8pm EDT (5pm PDT), with the pre-show an hour before. ION Tv is free on the air. Additional information about the Bee is available on the official website. I will appreciate any and every kind wish you may have for him in your heart.
It’s irrelevant to me how the final ends for Rishabh. He has toiled in anonymity for six years, driven only by his dedication to and love for the English lexicon. In my book, he is a dazzling champion already. Perhaps, so is also the case with his teachers and peers, who watched him live during the quarter- and semifinal today, cheering for him all along the way. As a dad, I have seen him grow from a tiny seedling into a kind-hearted tall being who is today a couple of inches closer to the sky than myself. Who was once my caboose is today my inspiration. Once upon a time, he was why I was. Now, he is why I will be.
PS: Here's a link to his Bee photos by Scripps right here on Flickr.
Times are hard, I'm sure you'll all agree
there's no end it seems by decree
endless days of countless claims
to fame we seek what this life proclaims
so many sunrises become clouded
over midday apprenticeships hope faded
our time hemmed-in by worried anonymity
however progressive life seems, we live it vaguely
existence! continually running...testing the faithful
escaping the latest crimes so dreadful
seeking safety from weaponary precission
away from politically-motivated convention
yet, the stratosphere of mind is still free
ours for open play, the crowning glory and beauty
victory in stealing the breath from under the noses of governments
life is free for us to inhale and caress all the purity it presents...
by anglia24
16h40: 29/11/2007
© 2007anglia24
☀
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To all my dear friends, this is for you, have a great evening~~!!
-Dan
xx
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Temperature: +11c max.
Music: Ciara: Ooh.