L’appel du vide


→ Jun 2013 text-mode:

“Rödbroka”  designed by Ann-Mari Forsberg in 1944.
→ Jun 2013
→ Jun 2013

Pompeii by Bastille
→ Jun 2013
→ Jun 2013

The things I want conflict with everyone else’s schedules/lives/desires. I hate being in the way. I hate being the source of frustration. I hate conflict.

I know exactly what to do but in a much more real sense I have no idea what to do.

→ Jun 2013
→ Jun 2013 "Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks even on the house he’s never visited. You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona, but not nearly so arid. Don’t wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes, your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them. You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic. Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and five cranberries. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street." — Frida Kahlo  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: allmymetaphors, via thatkindofwoman)

→ Jun 2013
→ Jun 2013
→ Jun 2013

i. we spent the cool edges of the day in limbo. we had money and transportation. we had time and piles of destinations. we had maps and satellites and street signs and nowhere to go.

ii. when the sun came out, wind gave way to children. as if they had been hiding in the shadows, they flooded the square without cue. hastily thrown together games and adventures reigned between towering monuments of history.

iii. i gave you a stolen daisy for your hair. you gave money to a homeless woman who was crying and injured as the daisy melted in the hot city air. we laid in the grass and watched our lives go by briefly in peace. it was the first time i ever felt useful by doing nothing

→ Jun 2013 detention:

I FOLLOW BACK 1OO%
→ Jun 2013

walk up in the club like “end rape culture, unlearn sexism, question gender, fight back”

(Source: mamamantis, via freesouled-feathers)

→ Jun 2013
→ Jun 2013
→ Jun 2013 bewildered-head:

post break up sex
by Singh Bean