i feel good things again
momentarily
maybe

images de lykke li
(marcus palmqvist, patricia reyes)

a tired moment

all the persistence of the slow-motion minutes has thrown me into a strangling, numbing turmoil. the words were forced up and out of my swollen throat as if my life depended on it and i hardly took a second to pull the questions back in and wonder- until it was too bloody late and i was piled beneath a hurricane's debris of unanswered cries and deep, groggy breaths. the ecstatic nostalgia comes top-speed running

like i've become so accustomed to in my life of broken fingers, golden falsieties..
i sit in a fabricated castle of pretentious breeding cycles and wonder why i let their blood stain my favorite shirt. they kiss me in the face of my beloved piece of art that animated my life-

HIS apprehension is always removable with a tide stick.

my invisible body is aching. i'm stranded in sinking sand, reaching for branches that can save me and they crack like fucking cornflakes. i disappoint forests at a time. i'm blue and red and ripped from head to toe. a wet newspaper under your "cool" shoes.
for you to save me, i'd have to hide somewhere in your dirty, empty sheets for weeks before you'd remember that i'd been dampened by your amnesia. and for the other- a beautiful, comatose alien that will never know me... i've found my grave with you. a wordless response to a tape measure crossing cold, wet sand and water. and it never mattered to begin with.

Paris in one month. Holding my breath.

images from nouvelle nouvelle

i've had a strange day and i'm trying to enjoy the silence of an empty home, but it's making my ears ring. solitude is so terrifying sometimes. the only comforts i can find are further that where my fingers can reach. i'm clutching air.

more books... why can't i remember the name of the artist?
(if you know who it is PLEASE tell me!)

photos by taki bibelas (work has been featured in vogue, nylon, playboy and more)

will someone please take me back to the beach? i'm so tired of the rain and the
snapping on and off of electricity...

more misprintedtype

taking it easy

this perfect square piece of stained notebook paper
burning into little firemen
and soldiers through my stomach, when your pretty face hangs around like the best burden i've ever had.
i'll wake up tangled in a familiar black sweater in the morning, something i've never been more sure of.

inspiration books!!

by herbert baglione via graphic-exchanGE

(it's the busiest weekend of the year...)