14,520,042 posts tagged with #snapshot

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・ ・ ・ Thanks 🙏 ・ shot by @koseiii_s ・ ・

한강공원 대리만족2-빨강리본❤️🎀 . 사진은 @_minju_97_ 보정은 내가 . 항상 후회없는 선택을 하는 내가 됐으면 좋겠다.

Try as he may, Matteo the Fountainmancer couldn't summon the eternal water spirits and ask them to pay off his loans. (Rome, Italy, 2007)

/做人越簡單越快樂 Swipe to see my silly face 圖攝於亞美尼亞/Zvartnots Cathedral . #armenia #asia#love#mood#backpacker#getzgo#nikonz6#photography#view#nikonhongkong#nikontakez#nikonasia#girl#snapshot#ootd#vintage


So, this past week I have finally graduated from my modeling and acting classes. I have been working on this for the past 8 months and really wanted to develop in certain areas to begin my career in the field. Since I graduated from college back in 2016 I really wanted to start putting my focus on other passions I have as there are several. I have definitely learned so much since i’ve been apart of this program. This is only the beginning of my career , you may catch me on the big screen one day 😉.........📷 Agency signing coming soon ! Only up from here baby. I finish everything I start🙏🏽 @john_casablancas • #johncasablancas #myworld #photography #snapshot #beautifulgirls #modelingagency #houston #blackgirlmagic #goodvibes #actress #thelife #dallas #progression #filmphotography #fashionblogger #blogs #vision #shots #agencylife #modelsearch #atlanta #speakingintoexistence #levelup #justgettingstarted

《🚩CUALIDADES INDISPENSABLES PARA TENER UNA VIDA VICTORIOSA🚩》 #2reyes 7:1-5-Situacion Actual de Israel, habia Crisis y escazes, Pero El profeta Eliseo profetiza y dice que en 24 horas Dios hiba a cambiar el panorama del pais y vendria abundancia. Hoy te vengo a declarar que en 24 horas Dios cambiara el panorama de tu economia, En 24 horas El milagro viene para tu Vida. cualidades indispensables para tener una Vida Victoriosa: 1⃣ Sal de tu zona de Confort. (2 Reyes 7:3¿Para qué nos estamos aquí hasta que muramos?) Para tener una vida victoriosa tienes que romper con el confortmismo, Romper con el status quo.. Hoy te digo hay mucho mas para ti. 2⃣Arriesgate hacia tu bendicion. (2 Reyes 7:4 Sinos quedamos aqui moriremos ) Los victoriosos son violentos, atrevidos, Audazes. 3⃣ Acciona. (2 Reyes 7:4 Vamos, pues ahora a pasar al campamento de los sirios) Los leprosos dijeron vamos pues Ahora, Los victoriosos se mueven, Son proactivos, Dinamicos.. 4⃣Levantate y conquista. (2 Reyes 7:5 Se levantaron, pues, al anochecer, para ir al campamento de los sirios; y llegando a la entrada del campamento de los sirios, no había allí nadie.) Los victoriosos se levantan y conquistan lo que Dios les prometio. 5⃣Hoy es dia de buenas nuevas. Vr9 -Los leprosos dijeron Hoy es dia de buenas nuevas. -Yo declaro que vienen noticias buenas. -Ya escucharemos buenas noticias de Venezuela. -Vienen buenas noticias para tu familia, para tu ministerio, Para tu esposa, para tu casa. Dile a alguien: Escucharemos cosas buenas. Noticias de bendicion. #photography #photo #photos #pic #pics #picture #pictures #snapshot #art #beautiful #instagood #picoftheday #photooftheday #color #all_shots #exposure #composition


1969-12-31 16:00:00


1969-12-31 16:00:00

Bebe baapu khush rhn te👪...Raajean vaangu rhida💯👑.....nah rabba nah hor Ni kch chaahida😇💝 Caption-@iamyuvrajjjj❤ Pic-@kanaw_sharma 💞 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . #photo #photos #pic #pics #envywear #picture #pictures #snapshot #art #beautiful #instagood #picoftheday #photooftheday #color #all_shots #exposure #composition #brotherhood #capture #moment #hdr #hdrspotters #hdrstyles_gf #hdri #hdroftheday #hdriphonegraphy #hdr_lovers #awesome_hdr


1969-12-31 16:00:00

quiet the mind and let the soul speaks


1969-12-31 16:00:00


1969-12-31 16:00:00




ミッ○ーくん🐭💜💚 めちゃくちゃカッコイイ😆✌🏻🔥🔥🔥 ・ ・ #unchain_shop #salute_tokyo #ootd

They thought they'd bled 'em dry - guess again - just a sigh after the long kiss goodnight, never count out the uncountable, the unbeatable, the indefatigable, been 'round the corner too many times to worry 'bout the straight and narrow, for every bow there are five lethal arrows - but only one grip - you're trippin' if you think you're ever gonna know what makes 'em tick, not even a watchmaker or the retail house dick could venture a guess, that kinda stress'll blind your soul, dim the stars, every scar tells a story that makes the bible seem like the pacifist's manifesto, dime tus pecados y te lo agradezco, gotta ask yourself how much you're willin' to lose to never win, pin back your ears to your heart before you go on a journey that's over before it starts, there are no lost sharks in the Sea of Prey, the Say Hey kid only caught that ball cause he knew where to run, Lola run - the way of the spirit or the way of the gun, don't shun what you don't understand, use the sand from the hourglass to build a fuckin' castle that can withstand the IGnorance of man - A.Flo

Chaos and Karma were the two great forces at play in his life. Oh yeah, and love. They were his mantra, his holy trinity. He believed in them, trusted that they'd guide him through the jungle - a jungle he didn't create but a jungle he was more than pleased to inhabit. It was the unpredictability that he craved, tapping into a primordial need to vanquish the un-vanquishable with little plan and even less sense. By now brutality had become second nature. It was his first language. He was fluent in it. He could enunciate any word backwards without a stumble. His penchant for killing actually made him more tranquil in social circles. When you've choke fucked the devil without getting seared there's little to fear about death and even less in life. He cried harder, loved deeper - fucked longer. His style and grace in public belied his true nature. The only thing that made him lose sleep was figuring out what to do when there was nobody left to kill - A.Flo

Zelda rolled in quick, too quick for the idle and the meek, in less than a week all they had, all they dreamt about was gone, wiped away by the invisible hand, in a flash, sand driftin' from the shattered hourglass of time, no coke, no lime, every mime whispered in the ear of the fallen angel 'bout what took place and what was to come, undone by Fortune's teller, one helluva fella, corrupt to the core, never a buyer, always a seller. Fear sipped a beer at the counter, waited for the suckers to flounder, life boats in place when she hit the ground and the sea, drowned out their pleas - bleedin' 'em dry from their knees - tomorrow was on sale, 50 percent off, free shippin', no flippin', no double dippin', and for damn sure no returns - A.Flo

He lied sometimes, drank a little, cussed a lot, fucked more than he cussed and broke the law on occasion. Not 'cause he enjoyed it but 'cause it had to be done. A little wrongdoing for the right reasons can undo alotta bad shit that's been done to too many good people for far too fuckin ' long. He wasn't vengeful. He was karmic. He wasn't destructive. He was cosmic. And he wasn't about to let someone else's impression of what he should be detract from what he really was. You don't become Bad Buddha by bein' a fuckin' saint. And you certainly don't set the world on fire by burnin' incense. You gotta be willin' to douse it in kerosene every once and a while - A.Flo

If gospel is God's music, jazz is the Devil's - cerebral, chaotic, sexual, unpredictable - snarling in some dark, sweaty club, the beast jamming its fist down the listener's throat, ripping out his beating heart before feeding it to the rabid crowd, the spell lasting not days but generations, infecting the blood with a consciousness religion can never touch - A.Flo

It ain't true art, like it ain't true love, 'til you revel in the imperfection - A.Flo

Seven lifetimes in seventy plus, and countin', got the world by the balls, scaled every mountain, sipped from the Fountain, eternal life, no strife too large to overcome, beggars gone numb, world come undone, but not him - his smile and glow can outshine the realm of a thousand suns. Just for fun, his motto, hit the spiritual lotto at 16, ridin' the jet stream to illumination, one man nation, every breath, every sip, every fuck - a revelation. Don't call 'em Sweetlife for nothin' - a love, a fervor unmatched in this world or the next, supernatural in his ability to vex, perplex, redirect any projectiles thrown his way, you don't say, parryin' life's limitless cruelty with a grin, iron chin, laughter and a roar that could stifle a meteor, midflight, outta sight, the plight of the masses becomes the fight of the one. Never outdone.Yes son - Levi Melville retired from bein' a man to become a legend - A Flo

They'd been to hell, seen the devil up close, close enough to smell his rank breath - even had his hands to their throats on one too many occasions - but they managed to free themselves of his grip every time. They were the lucky ones, some said. Not all of them believed that. Some would prefer to not remember what they'd witnessed and been through. Some would have preferred death at times but they made a promise to the dead long ago to live for them too and talk about them so they'd be remembered. And so they did, they kept them alive and young - even as they grew old and their own numbers dwindled. That's what you do. You keep your promises. Some called them grunts. Others called them dough boys. They called themselves: War Dogs - A.Flo

They ushered my soul from its earthly anchor, placed it at the edge of the horizon, sprinkled it with silver-speckled dust from the basement of Orion, stirred me into Vishnu's elixir - then poured me slowly back into the sea - A.Flo @samsungmobile

He was careful handling the light of her soul, could feel its magnetism in his palm, despite the waning wattage. It had taken a beating over the course of several lifetimes and countless human accidents but it remained a beacon, a source of power whose benevolence was undeniable and indispensable. He fed its luminescence with his own and in turn, entered a portal previously unattainable - a higher level of consciousness that he would need to master in order to help her alter the course of history, at least their little corner of it - A.Flo


When shit went down and got ugly quick they dragged a bunch of 'em in by the chin hairs and the short hairs for questioning, lookin' for answers, usin' the thumb screws, psychology and whatever-the -fuck else was at their disposal - hopin' to get a confession or at least a name. They got neither. Don't matter if he's out in the street, under the hot lamps or in the savanna - a lion's, a lion's a lion. They don't talk, they roar and what happens in Chinatown, stays in Chinatown. The authorities (and the troublemakers that started this shit) were about to learn that the hard way - A.Flo

When a beggar dies, alone, face planted in a sewer grate in the Bowery - ain't no trumpets, no eulogies - not a single tear baptizes the piss-stained pavement that birthed him - but when a white shoe scoundrel bites the dust - either by his hand or the fateful hand of another - he is celebrated, given tribute, a book deal - his corpse fellated by the groveling masses - the heavens parting, along with the legs of the angels that welcome him and will bear his celestial children. Shit begets more shit until it becomes standard issue then we wonder how the fuck we got here - A.Flo

He'd been away for an eternity, exploring the edges of his mind, hovering between space and time: the sole soprano in a chorus of homeless mimes. It was somewhere in that suspended animation (they called it The Great Ether) that he found stasis, a higher level of comprehension - the platinum chalice of consciousness. It was an ephemeral, shifting aqua crystalline archipelago bobbing in a sea of black. Neither the drugs nor the shock therapy - not even God - could reach him there. It was too pure to be touched by such tainted and earthly manifestations. Too present to be held down by the past. Flood's descent was slow, steady - tranquil. Upon re-entry, he realized just how many shades of blue there were in his soul and how many pockets it had to store his new found fingers of light - A.Flo

Nothing in the natural world could rival the mastery and beauty of a Picasso, a Matisse or a Van Gogh - or the Taj Mahal, the Coliseum - or Iguazu or the majesty and genius of the female form. That is - except flan. Flan had 'em all beat. And not by a little either. By a fuckin' country mile - probably more. Probably closer to 500 miles and a few dozen feet beyond that. Unlike those lesser creations flan's virtues could never be captured in words, music, a painting or a photograph - those forms of expression were too limited. And it was unfair of us to think otherwise. Even God tried to elucidate upon its virtues once - after the meal at a banquet for The Nouveau Homeless - but he got tongue tied and burst an aneurysm in his brain in all the impassioned excitement. He was dead before he could say caramel. Shit, if the architect himself couldn't find the words, what hope did we have? - A.Flo

The last time I saw Jesus he was in Grand Central eatin' halal and playin' Monopoly with a team of paleontologists millin' around on a three-hour train delay. They were headed to Poughkeepsie for a two-day Evolutionists Convention. I asked the king of kings why he still hadn't announced his return and he said he was waitin' for Bob Dylan to stop touring. I asked 'em why that was significant, especially since Dylan has been touring non-stop since June 7, 1988. He smiled and said "Anybody that can write 'Visions of Johanna' is worth waiting for to do a duet." I then asked "What if he dies before then?" He grinned, rubbed his eyebrow and responded "I'll never let that happen." My mind spoke for a fleeting wise ass second thinking "You couldn't even stop your own crucifixion" but before I could finish the thought he cut me off and quipped "You seriously think for one goddamned second that Pilate and a legion of Romans would have really been enough to stop me?" I suppose not when you consider who has his six. "Does he even know you're here?" I inquired further. "I DM'd 'em three weeks ago. Said he'd meet me right here in the Main Concourse on Christmas Eve and we'd sing the duet to launch my comeback just as the clock strikes twelve." Jesus Christ DMing Bob Dylan. This was too surreal to not be true and too fuckin' cool to miss. I pulled up a milk crate and sat my ass down, played Monopoly for the next twelve hours, waiting for the historic meeting between two very different messiahs in the greatest transportation cathedral ever built - A.Flo

They stared into the midnight sun, for fun, to defeat the Hun - every dream they ever dreamed was lost and won through the eye of the needle - at the edge of sanity, in a splinter in time. Sometimes you gotta commit high crimes to save lives, sink to the lower depths to find the divine, sippin' Syrah at the corner of 25th and Pine. Only the judgeless are fit to judge the judgment of the judicious. Shine on crazy diamonds, howl at the crystal moon, at high noon, 'til your cackle drowns out the sirens - and Madam Athena swoons - A.Flo

Sometimes a wrong turn ain't really a wrong turn at all. Sometimes it's a right turn disguised in thick flick wings and urban camo. A little trouble can go a long fuckin' way but that often depends on who's ridin' shotgun and how well she can run in six inch heels - A.Flo

Nobody knew how it got there or when but they'd spend the next 42 days figuring out why and for the first time in their sordid little existence it took their full cooperation and the complete integration of their knowledge to figure it out. It was unprecedented and unlikely to ever happen again but "The Messenger" had rewritten their future without uttering a single word. Some said it was sent from God, others said it was dropped down from the stars by an alien race. Most thought it was a brilliant grift carried out by more earthly conspirators. Regardless of who was responsible or who was right, one undeniable fact remained: what little faith they had left had been restored. At least until the following Monday - A.Flo

He'd known poverty and hunger, great pain and sorrow, the stretches of desert in his mind at times seemed endless - feet and hands blistered from life's thorny vicissitudes. But Vicente Teodoro Echeverria wasn't bitter, his name's regality matched only by his soul's. He never blamed his lot on anyone or anything - even when he was being pursued by the authorities for the heinous crime of seeking a better life. No, his wealth came from the music that sprung from his heart and imprinted smiles on the faces of anyone who listened to his platinum voice and majestic plucks - the message conveyed was clearly delivered even to those who didn't understand a word. Passion never needs an interpreter - A.Flo

Overnight delivery

When asked about the dichotomy of man, God chuckled, took a drag of the joint dangling from his bottom lip, blew out a shimmying cloud of Caribbean blue sarcasm and casually responded "What makes 'em so frustratin' is also what makes 'em worth watchin'. Reconcilin' that duality's the only reason why I bother keepin' 'em around. It's the only reason I created 'em in the first place" - A.Flo

He loved to hold court, yammering about politics, the Marine Corps., guns, Cuba, the art of cigar wrapping, conspiracies, the looming zombie apocalypse and how we all needed to prepare - or be swallowed whole - literally. His balance of street smarts, Latino bravado and an uncommon wisdom could hold an audience for hours - leave them transfixed with his unvarnished manner of speech - equal parts bullshit and impassioned confessionals - moving to a syncopated rhythm all his own, fueled by sips of coffee and long, sensual drags of a Cohiba. It was fascinating to see how the devil walked so assuredly alongside a man called Angel. He'd given up trying to turn him long ago but he knew he'd found a fellow hedonist, a kindred spirit in mischief and though he knew he would never possess his soul, he happily shared a laugh and a puff and tales of hijinks - the kind of stuff that made him take pause - filling the loneliness of his vengeful existence bent on destruction and chaos with the one word that made him jealous of man's mortality: life - A.Flo

You couldn't judge his book by its cover. It had a cover but no binder - it'd been torn away. Years ago. Even the prologue was ripped and frayed, some of the insightful little nuggets kidnapped by time and avarice. Nah, you had to do a deep dive to get an idea about who the fuck he was and what made 'em tick. Maybe by Chapter 8 you'd get a flavor - by Chapter 17 you might even think 'em worth savoring - by Chapter 23 he was downright delectable and by Chapter 32 he mighta gone a little sour. By chapter 37 he was worth stirrin' into your mornin' tea again - and sippin' slow. Then again he was an acquired taste. Not for mass consumption - a tainted, delightful little secret for a select few. Midway through the 11th page of Chapter 39 the words just stopped - the last word written was "sophistry." The book remained unfinished, the last word adding to the mystery of a man many "knew" but only a select few truly savored. It's not that he died or was "dead." He was alive and well. He just loved and respected his readers enough to let them fill in the blank pages. Life was all about perspective after all and their truth was just as important as his. Maybe even more so - A.Flo

Never stop creatin', communicatin', innovatin' - splashin' the world with the colors of your universe. The naysayers, the dividers, the liars wanna keep it black and white and gray - tell you there's a rainbow but they got the pot o' gold hidden in a secret wall of the basement, behind the nooses hangin' from the fuckin' crossbeams. They hate color and they hate light and above all they hate truth. That's when your paintbrush becomes a sword. Bushido the fuck outta that shit baby - A.Flo

Some of the best shit in life stays the best when you don't share it with anyone. Leave it to hell's angels to spread the legend after you're long gone - A.Flo