Hand aloft, goodbye, goodbye, not down. Like the blizzards that storm my day I once prayed for something more. Untouchable as you were, I could spin stories that made everything much closer to reality.
When I was maybe four I’d spend hours in the garden tending to the fairies . They were not pretty and dainty and coy, they were dangerous and affected beauties that sprung from the hands of Hans. My grim fairytale my mother used to say. Now I cross bridges in the night through rain it’s all so poetic that I might just drown. And her eulogy would read “she drowned in poetics”, she “suffered with semantics”, she “rivalled with logistics”, and no one would know exactly what to say. The morbid girl who chose her funeral song at the age of 15. As of radiohead’s ‘nude’ would suffice for the angsty pain. so I’ll be a story teller as some may say, find lives in my mind more interesting than mine. Write about people who want things again, about beings who feel and feelings that are beings. And translate them all into some sort of drawl-I can lend you some if you wish.

ladixcroix:

Andy Warhol eating a Burger - 66 Scenes from America - Jorgen Leth (1981)

stxxz:

Suppose design office - House in Koamicho - Hiroshima, Japan 2009. Photo (c)Toshiyuki Yano

"I think a lot of art is trying to make someone love you."

Keaton Henson  (via wolf-cub)

(Source: styleandstarbucks)

blabacphoto:

#weskremer, SD 2010 http://bit.ly/19Py72u

(Source: petrichoriam)

(Source: dreamingdauphine)

i am nostalgic of the beginning days before everything was torn asunder. and i see the children play in the white, open shopping malls and much of them is reflected in me. they cry when they do not get their way. they are unable to articulate exactly what they want to say. they never think of anyone but themselves. ‘but my feet hurt!’ i want to cry, and i want to say goodbye to those i’ve never known but i’m too goddamn shy. they’ll soon fly away, never to be seen again. and i wonder, i wonder who i’ll meet and where we’ll meet and how we’ll meet. because everything starts off exciting as if i radiate some light that draws them in like moths. now i am dimmer than before, i may be more beautiful but my idiosyncrasies are getting in the way. ‘never shall i be good enough!’ i cry. ‘shut the fuck up, you whiney bitch.’

"I want you to crave me. From my lips, up to my words."

J.E (via rattlejack)

(Source: 090108)

(Source: crymeadiamond)

lavandula:

by david sims for v magazine

"I have a million things to talk to you about. A million things we have to talk about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning."

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood  (via a-t-l-a-n-t-a)

(Source: durianquotes)

 

Lea Seydoux.

(Source: deathandmilk)

 

(Source: sowhyshouldi)