The Motorcycle Diaries (2004)

Driving in My Car // somewhere in the D.C. metro area // January 2002

(Photo by Ali F.)

Do the traffic cones have any basic knowledge like shapes and colors or do they have to learn all that from road wiz?

They have a school session every week

This might be a hot take but can Mrs.Flood just be Mrs.Flood who knows what a TARDIS is cause she lived in London all her life, where alien shit is happening at least once a year and is always accompanied by the doctor and a strange police box.

Yk the doc aren’t as subtle as they think they are, word gets around as to what the box actually is.

Credit: Backroad-life

Messy Trixie Charleston dance roughs.

color coded affection

getting back into the untamed and i had a thought. / follow for more yllz babygirlism

My Own Private Idaho (Gus Van Sant, 1991)

When the questions are quieted and the mulling abates, when a driver commits to the road, the driver and the road can form an easy alliance. The road calls the driver forth into a perpetual merging of tenses, future becoming present, becoming present. The road unfurls its stories in the language of landscape—stories of the earth told in water, rock, and dirt; stories of human desire told in the language of tar and bridges and streetlights; stories of loss told in the language of plastic flowers and white wooden crosses; while stories of ascension are told across the canvas of the sky. The driver, too, is a landscape. She wears her stories around her neck, in her pockets, in her cells. She carries them in vessels large and small. But sometimes, when the road and driver stretch on in easy unity, all the stories go, for a moment, quiet.

—Rita Zoey Chin, from The Strange Inheritance of Leah Fern (Melville House, 2022)

On the road from Yerevan to Tbilisi, May 2023

Not all who wander are lost. Some who wander, however, are extremely, extremely lost.

4 YEARS!! 🧪✨🫧☀️🌈🔥‼️