Youre like bricks in my heart. Weighing me down, for no apparent reason. I dont even know you, you dont know me, so why do you make me feel this way? Why do you make me feel so heavy
unknown
houses are made of bricks buildings too some bricks are heavier than others some bricks are athermic
mariana
ασχήμια γκρι και καφέ χρώματα, βαριέμαι την ίδια εικόνα,άσχημη πόλη, κακά χτισμένη . η αθήνα .
iza
καμια προοπτική, άσχημα κτιρια, μοιαζουν με φυλακή. σου κόβουν τη θέα. θεσ να τα γκρεμίσεις.μοιαζουν με φυλακή , οι πόλεις που είναι χτισμένες με τουβλα και τσιμέντο. μονοτονία.
iza
I like bricks. They hold things together and keep things in place. They’re literally the building blocks for things that become amazing later on. They’re walls, floors, entire buildings, roads, anything. They make incredible things.
Ash
Bricks in red. Smoke over rooftops. Grey sky, dusty streets. Cold feet, holes in the shoes. Too little food.
I pulled into the neighborhood in my shitty old Volkswagon Beetle and was embarrassed I had even come. I could never be with him. He was well off, living in this huge, glamorous brick mansion, and I lived in an apartment with three roommates.
they called me miserable but
i wasn’t the one
who wore a disgusted curl of
lip from seeing
two girls looking at each other,
smiling, kissing.
Youre like bricks in my heart. Weighing me down, for no apparent reason. I dont even know you, you dont know me, so why do you make me feel this way? Why do you make me feel so heavy
houses are made of bricks buildings too some bricks are heavier than others some bricks are athermic
ασχήμια γκρι και καφέ χρώματα, βαριέμαι την ίδια εικόνα,άσχημη πόλη, κακά χτισμένη . η αθήνα .
καμια προοπτική, άσχημα κτιρια, μοιαζουν με φυλακή. σου κόβουν τη θέα. θεσ να τα γκρεμίσεις.μοιαζουν με φυλακή , οι πόλεις που είναι χτισμένες με τουβλα και τσιμέντο. μονοτονία.
I like bricks. They hold things together and keep things in place. They’re literally the building blocks for things that become amazing later on. They’re walls, floors, entire buildings, roads, anything. They make incredible things.
Bricks in red. Smoke over rooftops. Grey sky, dusty streets. Cold feet, holes in the shoes. Too little food.
I pulled into the neighborhood in my shitty old Volkswagon Beetle and was embarrassed I had even come. I could never be with him. He was well off, living in this huge, glamorous brick mansion, and I lived in an apartment with three roommates.