I gave her my heart, and she gave me a pen.

I recently found my dad’s old slr from the 70’s and decided to try my hand at photography. I actually really enjoyed it and am currently trying to make it my new hobby. I guess ill use this tumblr as a way to share some of the photos i take.

By the time he reached the middle of the plaza it was too late she was gone. The smell and taste of blood and sweat running down his face was all he could feel. The aroma of her perfume hung in the air like a fly pestering him. The moment had passed him, he could not save her, for the first time he felt like a man. Imperfection and weakness were the traits he wore shamefully like a badge for everyone to see. A crowd started to gather he could hear all they were whispering, fear and doubt were entering their hearts. The trust they once had in him was no longer there, it had rotted and festered like a wound without care, and like a plague spread through the crowd as rumors and assumptions were being made. Like a flash of lightning he took of into the sky going to the one place they can not reach him, his only place of solitude. As he rose higher and higher the whispers slowly faded and the tears started to pour. They couldn’t possibly understand that underneath his suit and cape, underneath the superstrength and x-ray vision, that just like everyone else in that crowd, just like the woman who’s dead body lies in the middle of the plaza for everyone to see. Superman is human.