May 2012
18 posts
I want you always to remember me. Will you remember that I existed, and that I...
– Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (via sadseas)
shaving23spiders:
His palms are sweaty, knees weak arms spaghetti there’s vomit on spaghetti already mom’s spaghetti He’s nervous, but on the surface he looks calm spaghetti to drop bombs but he keeps on spaghetti
Daisy Lola; peaches & cream: May is two months on... →
iloveyoulessthanpunk:
I think I’m grasping on so desperately to any semblance of intimacy because I feel like my life lacks meaning, but if I fabricate it within the grey and yellow flecks of your eyes, even if I don’t have much to wake up for in the mornings, at least I have something to write about… You know?
I…
Certain portions of the heart die, and are dead. They are dead. Cannot be exorcised or brought to life. Do not disturb yourself to become whole. They are dead, go down in the dark and sit with them once in a while. -Gilbert Sorrentino, “Anatomy”
April 2012
17 posts
It wasn’t my day.
My week.
My month.
My year.
My life.
God damn it.
– Charles Bukowski (via esprit-malade)
March 2012
15 posts